


The Dark Knight Rises: Weapon of the Shadows

by KLCtheBookWorm



Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Adoption, Child Abuse, F/M, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 34,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KLCtheBookWorm/pseuds/KLCtheBookWorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the core explosion, the League of Shadows seeks retaliation for what they lost on the one Gothamite they can reach, but the stakes become personal when the Cat takes in a kitten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Longer You Stay](https://archiveofourown.org/works/710551) by [emiv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emiv/pseuds/emiv). 



> So I was reading emiv's awesome story adding all the Robins to the Nolanverse, _The Longer You Stay_ , when other commenters asked about the Batgirls and emiv told them she had no plans for them. I had already reintroduced Barbara "Babs" Gordon in _Signs and Portents: Meanwhile in Gotham City_ and had plans for Stephanie Brown in the _Part of the Night_ series. That left Cassandra Cain, my favorite little badass, and bam this story hit my brain.
> 
> It wasn't supposed to be a novel, but I can't begrudge Cass one single chapter. I hope you enjoy the ride.
> 
> This story is set after the core exploded in _the Dark Knight Rises_ but before the café scene in Florence.

  


"The last thing he said to me was anyone can be a hero." Jim Gordon's voice caught and he looked down at the podium. Selina pitied him and turned off the television set. She knew there were more to Batman's last words, but she had been there two months ago when he had uttered them. She didn't begrudge Jim's editing for the speech dedicating the statue to the fallen hero's memory. Just like he didn't begrudge her leaving Gotham before someone pinned a medal to her undeserving chest.

She had wasted enough time on television tonight, and wasn't any closer to answering what to do with her life now. Bruce Wayne had bequeathed her a few things, and a stronger desire to help was the third one. Her philanthropist cover was the cleanest; she even paid taxes with it. Maybe it was time to be Elva Barr full-time and see what good she could do by throwing money around.

She pushed off the sofa and opened the Roman shade over the window seat. Her suite looked over the streets of Hong Kong. Colorful neon lights broke up the darkness. Her skin itched for the catsuit to soothe it. After a couple of hours of watching GCN's rebuilding Gotham footage was the wrong time to zip up the catsuit. But one didn't have to wear it to prowl.

Selina moved with the crowds sampling the clubs and theaters, but she didn't enter. She wanted her senses sharp tonight as she learned Hong Kong. She abandoned the throng to explore the alleys of the district. Awnings pressed against the buildings, shop windows shuttered with metal, and door locked tight. She shadowed a pair of businessmen ahead of her in the closed-for-the-night alley. They rapped on a closed door. A bouncer slid a peephole window open, and grilled them just like the Prohibition was ongoing. The customers vibrated in their suits as they entered. She hoped the experience inside the speakeasy met their expectations as she walked past. 

She looked up as she eased past the pile of bagged vegetables stacked against the wall. A shadow on the roof moved against the neon signs of a taller building. The human shape jumped back out of sight. The alley ended ahead. She planned to circle the building on her left to reach the main street. As she turned the corner, three men eased out of the shadows. She shook her head. "Alleys are the same all over the world." She pivoted to retreat. Three more men stood in front of the human-tall pile of bagged vegetables, cutting off the narrow path around the merchandise. She smirked at the casually dressed men. "Don't ruin such a good night, boys."

"Selina Kyle from Gotham City." A muscular Indian stepped away from the gap between the wall and the plastic bags. Selina moved under the awning stretched across the alley and closer to the wall. His voice reminded her of Miranda Tate's accent. The three men blocked adjacent alley. The Indian smirked. "We know who you are and what you did to Bane."

"No thanks necessary, but flowers would have been nice."

"You will pay for attacking the League of Shadows." After their leader spoke, the closest soldier--a burly Caucasian--swung.

She dodged to the right and his fist slammed into the concrete wall. Her elbow spiked down on his forearm. It cracked. "So, no flowers?" She batted her eyes at their leader.

A skinny black man grabbed at her from the right. She kicked him, but the Chinese soldier next to him caught him. The Indian seized her leg and shoved her back into the wall. Her fist bashed his cheekbone. He shifted with it and faced her with a cold glare.

The metal supports holding air conditioner units to the building clanged overhead. A small figure landed on the vegetable bags. Selina glimpsed a gap-tooth grin on a tiny face as the girl moved through the light. She vaulted off the produce and dropped onto the shoulders of the burly Caucasian. Her weight toppled the larger man and she kicked him in the head as she cartwheeled off his back. The Chinese man in front of the alley exit caught her feet. He fell back.

The League soldier who gripped Selina's leg looked behind him at the child. "Get the weapon!"

The three remaining men turned their attention to the little girl. One leaped to tackle her, but she jumped away. She pushed off the wall, punched the dark-skinned soldier, and landed both heels into the back of the soldier who tried to tackle her. He groaned as he dropped onto the wet pavement.

Selina flexed her knee and pulled their leader toward her. She grabbed his shoulders, pivoted, and slammed his face into the concrete. "That is a child, you moron!" His stance crumpled and she dropped him. "No wonder you idiots couldn't destroy Gotham." She kicked him in the stomach as she stepped over him.

All six men lay on the pavement. The little girl stood above them, hands planted on her flat hips, and a smug grin stretched across her lips. "No kill."

"They didn't. Thank you."

She tilted her face up and tapped her chest. "Me no kill." She pointed at Selina. "Gotham?" 

"Yes, I'm from Gotham." Selina stepped over the unconscious men and through the narrow path beside the pile of bagged vegetables. The child followed her into the light above the store door. The plumpness of her pre-pubescent face had been hollowed out by hunger. Her black, frayed clothing was sized too big for her and covered as much skin as she could despite the hot weather. Selina pushed down her bitterness at the sight. "Let me buy you supper to thank you." It would have to be a restaurant meal. The grocery stores were closed and Selina hadn't stocked her suite's kitchenette yet.

The little girl tilted her head to the side. "Fight League in Gotham?"

Selina glanced at the groaning men. "We shouldn't talk about Gotham here."

"Yes." She followed Selina down the alley, up the busy street, through a few side streets to confuse any followers, and into the restaurant. They ended up at Chez Patrick Deli, because it was still open and Selina had sampled their coffee earlier during the day. The waitress sighed and disguised her pout as she met them at their table.

"Coffee for me, water for my friend." The little girl nodded as she frowned at the menu. "I know it's late. What do you have that's already made?" Selina smiled.

"We have plenty of bouillabaisse remaining," the waitress answered. 

"That will be fine."

The waitress addressed the little girl in Cantonese. Her brown eyes studied the woman. "No talk." She looked across the table at Selina. "Talk little."

"I don't think she knows Cantonese," Selina said.

"And I don't know Mandarin." The waitress retreated.

"My name is Selina Kyle. What's your name?"

"Cassandra." The waitress set down the coffee mug in front of Selina and two glasses of water. Selina watched the child gulp the water. Cassandra's brown hair had sun-bleached streaks through the matted knots tied into lopsided ponytails. Her hands and face were scrubbed clean, but lines of dirt filled the creases around her neck and wrists. She set the glass down and her tattered long sleeves brushed against the table. "How fight Bane?"

"On a motorcycle with guns powerful enough to blast tanks. And I know about the tanks because I blew them up after Bane." Selina smirked and Cassandra grinned. "Do you fight the League often?"

Her gapped baby teeth vanished inside her frown. "League bad. Help Father do bad." Her solemn eyes drilled into Selina's. "Me no bad now."

The waitress set down two plates before a platter of the fish, clams, and potatoes between them. Two bowls with the broth went on top of their plates. Plates of toasted French bread slices with two small bowls of mustard and rouille joined their dishes. The waitress handed them wrapped silverware and vanished.

"You fought better than I could have at your age." Selina spread the mustard and rouille onto a bread slice and dropped it into her broth. "How did you know what to do?" She spooned up the now soggy bread and broth.

Cassandra did the same with her bread. "Father train eight years." She ate the bread and broth and then wrapped both hands around her water glass again.

Selina hadn't had experience with children since she left childhood behind, but there was no way a normal eight-year-old could take down five men trained in the same way Bruce, Bane, and Bane's elite soldiers had been trained. Yet she had watched Cassandra do that. Her sinking worry killed her appetite. She missed the days when finding a snuff film stash in the safe was the weirdest shit she had to deal with.

Cassandra dunked another slice of bread without the mustard and rouille. "Talia al Ghul dead?"

"Yes and good riddance. But this isn't a supper conversation." Cassandra's eyes widened and she stopped chewing. "I have Gotham stuff back at my rooms I can show you. Is that a plan?"

Cassandra nodded and chewed again. Selina tasted the broth. This kid had better puppy eyes than Jen, and Selina was proving to be a sucker all over again. Cassandra sipped the broth silently before asking, "Why here?"

"I knew the food was good here."

Her frown knitted her eyebrows together. "No. City here."

Selina wished she knew whatever language Cassandra knew, so this conversation wasn't a guessing game. "You want to know why I came to Hong Kong?" Cassandra nodded and shoveled another spoonful of broth into her mouth. Selina bought a little time by sipping her coffee. If a little girl who could barely speak English thought her reason was nuts, chances were, it was nuts. "Batman came here, years ago. You were probably just a baby then."

Cassandra's eyes gleamed as she looked up from the soup. "Bat man sent Selina?"

Her chest squeezed. Two months wasn't enough time for it to stop hurting. "Batman died saving Gotham. I… wanted to see other places he had seen." She set her soup bowl aside and scooped some potatoes and clams onto her plate. Cassandra moved her soup bowl over, but looked at it as she reached for the platter's serving spoon. "Drinking it down, if you want. I won't tell."

She brought the bowl up with both hands and gulped the soup. She wiped her lips on the back of her hand before scooting her plate closer to the platter. She had been taught table manners and hunger hadn't made her completely forget them yet, but she gave up her end of the conversation in order to eat everything on the table.

The waitress gaped when she returned. Selina left her a decent tip and led the way to her extended stay apartment. Cassandra moved through the crowd as silently as Selina did. They entered the building through a door that bypassed the concierge's desk and went up to the sixteenth floor. Cassandra looked around at the beige and brown combination living room and dining room while Selina shut the door. "Nobody followed us here," Selina said.

"No see." She walked up to the brown closet wall and peered up at the bland artwork an interior designer had hung on it. So she had been taught to stay aware too. "Gotham?"

"It's in the bedroom." Selina sat on the couch. "Look, I know how hard it is sleeping on the streets."

Cassandra tilted her head. "Don't sleep on street."

"Oh, really, so where do you sleep?"

"Roofs." Cassandra grinned.

"I know how hard it is to get a shower and clean clothes on the roofs too. I can wash your clothes here."

She looked at her clothes and then at the spotless apartment. She toed off the faded black sneakers. "Wash yes."

Selina ushered her through the bedroom to the bathroom, and pulled a clean T-shirt from the drawer under the television set. "You can wear this after you finish." The girl had already stripped and was turning on the shower faucets. Selina set the T-shirt on the toilet seat lid, picked up the dirty clothing, and carried them into the kitchen where the front-loading washer was installed. She started the load, and glared out the small kitchen window while she took deep breaths. 

The last time she had been this furious with someone, he ended up making a dent in City Hall's marble wall. The time before that; Jen's former pimp used a walker these days. Scars covered Cassandra's body. The ones on her arms and legs were less noticeable than the ones on her back, especially the mass left from a bullet wound. Who had pulled the trigger on a little girl: Daddy Dearest or a soldier in the League of Shadows?

Selina squeezed the edge of the counter as she exhaled. She didn't want to spook Cassandra. She needed help even if she didn't think she did. Selina wanted to give her that help. She let the anger recede where it could be found to do the most harm later. She turned the living room television on. GCN flashed on again showing a bronze Batman, the statue. She had turned the set off before the unveiling. It was larger than life, undeniably Batman, and already the base was surrounded by floral tributes. But it was not recognizably Bruce, and tension eased out with her throaty chuckle. "He would hate it. Absolutely hate it." She gathered her laptop and mementos of Gotham from the bedroom, and brought them to the sofa. 

Cassandra came out, wrapping a towel into a turban only to have it slip and fall onto her shoulders. Selina's T-shirt hung off one shoulder and past her knees. She saw the statue footage on the television and left the towel on her shoulders. "Batman."

"A memorial statue, like the one of Bruce Lee on the Avenue of Stars."

Cassandra nodded and climbed onto the sofa. The program changed to a recording of Gordon's dedication speech. Her brown eyes stared at the man as he stumbled through his speech. "Hero," she repeated after his speech was done and the program returned to the anchors in the studio. She turned to Selina. "Knew Batman?" She pointed at the television.

"Commissioner Gordon? He helped Batman when he first appeared in Gotham. He kept the bomb from detonating while Batman and I chased it down."

"Last fight?"

Selina started her story with Batman giving her a way off the islands in the shape of the Batpod and claimed to have changed her mind because of what Batman told her. No need to burden the child with Selina's guilt. She showed her security footage stored on her laptop of the Bat flying through the skyscrapers and herself on the Batpod, though the distance from which it was taken made identifying her hard. She left out Batman's revealed identity the same way Jim Gordon had left it out of his speech. Next they spread out all the newspapers and magazines Jen had stuffed into her suitcase before Selina left Gotham.

The washer buzzed and Selina hung Cassandra's clothes to dry in the bathroom. Cassandra stabbed a magazine's picture with her finger. "Selina! Seen him Father. Selina there." 

Selina's stomach twisted as she sat down. Cassandra bounced up against her to show her the picture. Selina already guessed which one, but looked down at herself in the lacy masquerade mask staring into Bruce Wayne's face.  
  


  
"You're right, that's me." She moved the _Gothamite_ magazine halfway to her lap.

Cassandra's finger tapped Bruce's ear. "Seen him, who?"

"His name was Bruce Wayne." Selina's voice wavered slightly. "His company is important to Gotham. You probably saw his picture in the financial news."

"Bruce Wayne," Cassandra repeated. "Who?" She patted Selina's arm.

Selina swallowed the lump in her throat but it didn't move. "I stole from him twice. And I didn't help him when he needed my help." She looked at the other picture on the page, a shot of him leaving Wayne Enterprises for the last time. His tight-lipped expression blurred and shifted. "I thought I saw him die." Cassandra's head pressed against her arm. "But he didn't. He found me before the War for Gotham." The tears she had kept dammed broke free. "Everyone else I have ever known would have hurt me for what I did, but Bruce didn't. He gave me what I took from him, and only asked for help getting the people he cared about out of the Dungeon. I helped him, but he died in the War."

Cassandra flung her arms around Selina and buried her face against the woman's side. "Sorry sad. Sorry." She sobbed and squeezed tighter.

Selina freed her arm, set the _Gothamite_ 's tribute to Bruce Wayne on the sofa's end table, and wrapped both arms around the little girl. "It's alright. He was the best man I ever knew, along with Batman, and they're both gone." She'd keep his secret. "It's okay." She hugged while Cassandra sniffled.

She pulled back and her lips trembled. "No mad?"

What kind of life had made this child believe making someone sad was going to piss them off? "I'm not mad at you." Selina wiped her own face. "I've been forcing myself not to cry over him for two months."

Cassandra smiled as she wiped her tear tracks. "Go?"

"Your clothes aren't dry yet. You can sleep here tonight on the sofa." Selina gathered up the newspapers and magazines.

"Pay too much. Me," Cassandra pantomimed throwing a punch and then held up her hand with all the digits spread out. "Food, wash, bed, too much."

Selina closed her laptop. "You're paid to beat up people?"

"Sex sellers feed. Me," she punched the air, "thieves."

"So I'm overpaying for you beating up five soldiers of the League of Shadows?"

"Yes."

Selina nodded. "I'm not paying you for that." Cassandra cocked her head. "After my parents died, I ended up on the streets. Since I grew up, my friends can come to me for anything. And right now, you need a place to sleep while your clothes dry."

"Friend?" Cassandra tapped her chest.

"If you want to be." Selina smiled. "I could use a friend."

Cassandra grinned and showed all her baby teeth. "Friend. Me sleep here."

Selina matched her grin. "As often as you need to."


	2. Chapter Two

  


Bruce settled on top of a ten-story building neighboring the taller Eaton House in Wan Chai. Dusk gave him shadows, but he wished a taller building had been available. He set his equipment bag on the concrete roof and checked the signal on his tablet. The pearls were inside the sixteenth-floor apartment facing the building he was on. He stowed the tablet and pulled out the binoculars with a built-in long-range microphone. He tucked the miniature speaker into his ear and trained the binoculars on the sixteenth floor.

Selina sat on the sofa with a laptop. His chest loosened as he watched her. He knew she had survived, had watched the tracker on the pearls move across the world, but he didn't believe it. And this relief still didn't answer the question of how to approach her.

A movement down the building caught his attention. He refocused on a small, black figure climbing the building. The child stopped at Selina's window and knocked. Bruce frowned. Was this what she was doing with her clean slate, training a new generation of thieves?

Selina opened the window. "What did I tell you about showing off? Using the door is sneakier."

"Cut." A little girl's high pitched voice answered. Her English had a Hong Kong accent, but not that pronounced. "Me too slow."

"Cut?" Selina's voice moved out of range. Bruce gritted his teeth.

"Chest," the girl answered an unheard question. She peeled off her long-sleeved shirt. Bruce frowned. Her back had triple the amount of scars his did. She pressed the bunched-up shirt to her front. "Yes."

Selina came back carrying towels and some clothing. She spread a towel on the window seat. "I told you not to fight for me."

"No Selina fight." The brown-haired girl sat on the towel. "Me no go to Father."

Selina frowned as she looked at the wound. "It needs stitches." The little girl took a washcloth and pressed it over the wound. "They wanted to take you back to your father?"

"Yes. Me no go."

"Of course not. Let me get the first aid kit." Bruce moved the binoculars to the bedroom window. Selina pulled a first aid kit out of a dresser and disappeared through a door. He heard water running before she took the supplies into the living room.

"Me." The little girl held out her free hand.

"You're letting me do it. I need the practice." The little girl held herself motionless as Selina doctored her. "How old were you when stitching yourself up lessons started?"

"Six. Talk lessons start."

Bruce adjusted the ear piece. Someone taught a six-year-old to suture themselves? She didn't sound much older than that.

"All done." Selina smiled as she packed the kit. "Get cleaned up. I made spaghetti. Ever had spaghetti?"

"No." She pulled on a white long-sleeved T-shirt. Bruce saw her face as she picked up the towels. She was too young to be so scarred. What was Selina caught up in now? The little girl returned to the sofa and turned on the television. Gordon's voice caught him off guard. She watched Gordon explain how the Blackgate prisoners who sided with Bane wouldn't benefit from the parole hearings that were about to start.

The dining room table was on the other side of the room. Bruce leaned back to get it into view. Selina set filled plates on it. "News again? Do you even know what a cartoon is?"

"No catch Scarecrow." The little girl turned off the television and joined Selina. Bruce gave up on the visual and increased the amplification.

"Commissioner Gordon has been catching criminals for a long time. He'll catch him. I feel like a movie tonight. What do you want to watch?" Selina asked.

"Jackie Chan."

"No more Jackie Chan. Have you seen _Ghostbusters_? Okay, we'll watch it then."

The only sounds Bruce heard were forks on the plates until Selina spoke again. "I've worn out Hong Kong's welcome. I should go before those idiots bring the fight here."

A fork hit a plate with a clatter. "Leave? Now?"

"Not right now, but soon."

"Me good fights!"

"There's more to life than just fighting. When I leave--"

"Gotham?"

"No, not Gotham, it makes me sad. I haven't decided where, but do you want to leave Hong Kong with me? I know it's only been a couple of weeks--"

The little girl interrupted. "Want me with you?"

"Either you come with me or I make sure your father never touches you again." Selina let out a whoosh of air.

"Selina no fight Father. Me go. Me go!"

"Okay, we'll get started tomorrow." The two of them cleaned the dishes into a kitchen that was out of his microphone's range. Once it was done, they curled up on the sofa. Selina found the movie with the remote control before leaning back. The little girl pulled Selina's arm around her shoulders. Selina blinked before smiling above the child's head.

The ocean breeze chilled Bruce's exposed skin. She wasn't leaving tonight, so why did the thought of tearing his eyes away spike his chest with pain? She was fine; she was safe… for now. He turned off the microphone, and watched the colors from the television screen dance across her face. If he stayed here all night, how effective would he be if she needed help tomorrow?

His nose flared as he shoved the binoculars into the bag. He thought his hotel overlooking the harbor in Wan Chai was close enough when he checked in. He shook his head. Selina would punch him if she knew he doubted her ability to take care of herself. He slung the bag over his shoulder and repelled down the building.

Despite his resolve, he only slept a couple of hours and returned to Selina's new neighborhood when businesses opened for the day. He hid behind aviator sunglasses and the aura of a tourist sampling Hong Kong.  
  


  
Selina and the little girl exited the Eaton House and headed to the nearest bus station. He entered after them and sat behind their seat. Selina scanned the bus for threats and then settled into talking fashion with the little girl. At least that was his best guess with the background noise and his pretending to be engrossed in his guide book. The little girl gazed on the scenery passing. She nodded and shook her head in response to Selina.

They transferred to the subway line to Sheung Wan. Bruce pretended to forget he needed to transfer also and dashed into the subway car right before it departed. He sank into a seat and used the reflection in the window to watch. He trailed them from a further distance when they exited the subway. The guide book proved useful when they reached Upper Lascar Row, nicknamed Cat Street when it was known as the place that sold stolen items--called rat goods in Cantonese. Those who bought them were called cats, and Selina's smirk at the first shop screamed that she already knew the history. He slipped the guide book into his jacket pocket and shopped.

Selina pointed out a blue silk cheongsam in the little girl's size hanging under the awning of one tiny shop. The child shook her head and fixed her gaze on Bruce four shops down. He stepped inside the tables extending the shop to the edge of its awning and picked up a carved wooden toy. The shopkeeper began his pitch for other items as soon as Bruce moved. He paid for the item he picked up after a glance showed the little girl's attention refocused up the road. Only when the shopkeeper bagged it did he notice that it was a wooden cat. It was carved out of a red-toned wood and had one front paw stretched out to grab onto something.

He hung his camera around his neck and hid behind shooting photographs. Through the viewfinder, he watched Selina and the little girl enter a used book shop that had been built when Cat Street earned its nickname. He lowered the camera and passed it. A white dragon coiled like a cobra was painted on the store's sign: the Ghost Dragons' symbol. He frowned as he looked for an outdoor café within view of the store. Why was Selina getting involved with one of the most notorious criminal organizations in this part of the world?


	3. Chapter Three

  


Selina smiled at the tattooed man facing her. The office in the rear of the store didn't have another chair for Cassandra, but she remained at Selina's side. He cocked his head so they saw the line of hanzi between his jawbone and collarbone. Selina wasn't off-put by a man tough enough to have a needle stuck in him so many times. "We both need passports and I need adoption papers for Cassandra in my new identity. My passport only needs a few tweaks."

"Adoption papers are a new request. Not hard," he waved off worries as he swiveled his chair around to face his computer desk. "Americans adopt so many unwanted girls. Does the little one have a record that should be scrubbed?"

"No police," Cassandra answered. "No want Father find me."

"Fresh start easier without entanglements. To be sure, what is your name?"

"Cassandra."

"Cassandra doesn't know her last name. Or her father's first name," Selina added. The address Cassandra said her father lived was empty and had been rented under a dead-end alias. It wasn't the house Cassandra called home, that was a plane ride away from Hong Kong. Selina gave up on finding Daddy Dearest after that.

The forger swiveled around and rubbed his bottom lip. "We shall scan her fingerprints while taking pictures." He scanned Cassandra's fingers with a digital device, set the search perimeters to her age of eight-years-old and birthday of July nineteenth, and took headshots with the appropriate background for American passports while the computer ran. He studied her Elva Barr passport. "Change middle name, easy. The government only allows married couples to adopt, not singles."

Selina frowned as she sat in the visitor's chair again. "Okay, make me a widow. I kept my maiden name, but we were married when we adopted Cassandra, and my husband died in the Gotham Occupation."

"So what is Cassandra's new last name?"

"Wayne." Selina snapped her jaw shut before her mouth added a first name damning them to further scrutiny. Bruce was out, as well as Thomas and John. "Her father was Alfred Wayne. We lived in Greenwich, Connecticut, and he worked in Gotham City."

The oriental dragons coiled around his arms rippled as he typed. "You want paperwork supporting all that? Or just hints in the system?"

"Enough hints and paperwork so we can leave the country without suspicion. I can get the rest later if I need to."

He nodded. "Your girl is clean. No trace of her in the system, until now." Selina leaned over his shoulder without touching him. The digital copy of Cassandra Wayne's passport expanded on his computer screen. She straightened as he looked at her while the printer beside the monitor whirled. "Anything else, Ms. Elva Selina Barr?"

"I have merchandise for sale that may interest King Snake."

His eyebrows rose. "I will send the request for a meeting."

After cash exchanged hands, Selina and Cassandra left the used bookstore cover with the passports and adoption papers. "Now, we go to Causeway Bay and buy you some suitable clothes."

"No want."

She truly admired Cassandra's independent spirit, but the girl's answer hadn't changed all morning. "Right now you hide by stepping into the shadows or by pretending to be a street kid. Those techniques won't work at the airport."

Cassandra's scowl eased as she thought it over.

"If you let me buy you a week's worth of clothes, I'll buy you a catsuit." She was not above bribing, especially when Cassandra had tried on the catsuit when she found it.

Cassandra smiled slyly. "Boots?"

"No, have to save something for Christmas." They entered the subway headed east. More tourists piled in after they found a seat. One man sparked her memory by how he moved between other passengers and protected his camera, but the spark sputtered out instead of igniting into a full memory. She looked at Cassandra. "Do we have a deal?"

She stared at the tourist with the camera. "Deal."

After five stores and three repeats of Cassandra's balking at getting stuff she hadn't earned, Selina collapsed in a chair thoughtfully offered by the dancewear store and dropped the shopping bags at her feet. Maybe she had been too quick to dismiss the boots until Christmas. Cassandra now wore jeans, a lightweight long sleeve shirt, black sneakers that fit, and nothing unraveled around her. The bags contained enough outfits to fill the small suitcase that rested next to her chair. Mission exhaustingly accomplished.

Cassandra scowled at the store's glass front. "Follows."

"What?" Selina turned, but her cell phone buzzed. The text message proclaimed that Sir Edmund Dorrance would meet her at the Above & Beyond at eight o'clock for appetizers tonight. She checked the time before slipping the phone back into her pocket. "Come on, Cassandra, I got the appointment for tonight. Find a unitard that fits."

Cassandra dragged her feet to the display. "Wrong stuff." She pouted at Selina.

"Because the unitard will be the pattern for the real suit. Please can we shop in this one store without a fight?"

"Yes." She seized three unitards and marched to the dressing rooms.

They found one in black that fit her like a second skin. Since she had all the other bags, Selina put the new suitcase in Cassandra's care as they boarded the bus to Eaton House. The next time Cassandra needed clothes, they would magically appear in her closet thanks to Internet ordering. They squeezed the bags and themselves onto one bus bench.

Cassandra's foot kicked a plastic bag. "Me trouble?"

Selina smiled. "You're worth it. I'll be fine after a hot shower."

Cassandra looked unconvinced but turned her attention to the Caucasian man sitting in the first available seat. He adjusted the strap of his messenger bag before propping his left arm on the seat back. Selina wondered what had given him the scar peeking from under his short sleeve. Cassandra scowled. "Follows."

Adrenaline straightened Selina's back. The man with slicked-back brown hair didn't turn and got off when the bus stopped near the Renaissance Harbor View Hotel. He walked straight to the hotel as the bus rolled away. Maybe he had innocently hit the same tourist spots they had, but the League of Shadows kept looking for them. "The sooner we leave Hong Kong, the better."

Cassandra nodded.

After the hot shower, Selina felt energized and ready to work a deal. She slipped on her black, bad girl dress. It wrapped around her curves with a V-shaped neckline that teased rather than exposed her cleavage.  
  


  
But given what happened the last time she wore this dress to a meeting, she zipped her pair of normal, knee-high boots over her black sheer stockings. She was ready to flirt or fight.

She leaned over the sink and finished her make-up. Above & Beyond was a fine dining restaurant and she needed to dress-up this outfit. Her deep red lips frowned, but she stepped out of the bathroom and picked the long jewelry box off her bed.

The second thing Bruce had given her, slipped into her suitcase while he waited in her apartment before their assault on the Dungeon. She stared at the flawless pearls resting on black satin. "That's a beautiful necklace. It reminds me of one that belonged to my mother," echoed in her mind.

Did he already know he wouldn't escape Gotham City alive when he hid the necklace for her to find? He knew later when he offered her a way off the island in the form of the impressive motorcycle and turned down her plea to save himself. Tears pressed against her eyes and she forced them back. Work first, and then have a breakdown over Bruce Wayne. She swallowed and fastened the pearls around her neck. The square jewelry box on the bed went into her clutch purse.

Cassandra wore the black unitard and performed kata in front of the sofa. "Oh pretty." She pointed to the pearl necklace. "Selina sad?"

It was uncanny how quickly Cassandra picked up on her moods. Selina touched the pearls. "Bruce gave this to me. I'll tell you how he knew I liked them after I get back. Stay inside while I'm gone, okay?"

"Yes." Cassandra stood in horse stance, but waved as Selina left the apartment. Selina realized how much more she trusted Cassandra home alone than she had trusted Jen. "Hotel Icon," she told the cab driver.


	4. Chapter Four

  


The hostess led Selina to a private dining room on the twenty-eighth floor, instead of the packed main dining room. Hong Kong's skyline and harbor glowed beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, and Selina was almost stunned into missing that this room was mostly empty. The table in use was next to the window and commanded a view of the door. Two Chinese men flanked the seated Caucasian man, all of them dressed in tuxedoes though the Chinese bodyguards' military stances ruined the illusion.

The bodyguard on the left spoke softly in Cantonese to the seated man. The blond man stood smoothly and she saw his muscular form. "Ms. Kyle, I'm Sir Edmund Dorrance. I must apologize for such an abrupt meeting." His smile was just shy of predatory.

"I'm glad you worked me into your schedule." She reached their table.

"The woman who killed Bane deserves a full dinner in appreciation."

The bodyguard on the right pulled out the chair for her. Selina sat across from Sir Edmund. "It gives us something to look forward to on my next trip to Hong Kong."

The bodyguard who spoke touched Sir Edmund's arm, and Sir Edmund sank into his seat. "Still, seeing your merchandise is a poor way of thanking you for the decisive handling of Bane and Talia al Ghul."

"My, I haven't heard them discussed in such tones since I left Gotham."

Sir Edmund's smile widened. "The League of Shadows hasn't made friends in Hong Kong. Have a Shanghai dumpling; they are my favorite appetizer here."

"Thank you." Selina spooned one of the dumplings to her appetizer plate and tasted it. "Delicious. Crab meat and?"

"Sea urchin. Your merchandise?"

She pulled the square jewelry box from her clutch, and opened it. "A pair of Victorian shakudo devil face cufflinks. The faces originated in Japan not China, but they were turned into cufflinks by the British."

The bodyguard on the left took the box and spoke in Cantonese. Sir Edmund answered in that language and held out his hand. His right index finger touched the cufflinks while looking straight at Selina. "Devil faces?"

"Unfortunately, I didn't have anything with a snake or dragon motif."

"You do your homework, Ms. Kyle. Your price?"

"Nine hundred in U.S. dollars. I don't remember what the exchange rate is."

"I will buy them." Sir Edmund closed the box and spoke in Cantonese. The bodyguard took the box back and left with a short bow. "I am surprised," Sir Edmund picked up his water glass. "I had assumed the merchandise was the CleanSlate program."

The CleanSlate program, the first thing Bruce had given her, his payment for being led to Bane. Her forgiveness for setting him up, not that she had much choice. And like the pearls, she would never sell it. But one doesn't tell the leader of the Ghost Dragons that.

She smiled and didn't have to dig deep for her resentment of Daggett. "Rykin Data lied to Daggett, and Daggett lied to me. It doesn't exist."

Sir Edmund raised one eyebrow. "Neither does Selina Kyle."

"You'd be surprised what you can leverage out of grateful governments after you helped stop a terrorist threat from blowing up a major metropolitan area."

He chuckled as he cut into his dumpling. "Terrorist threat, oh how the al Ghul pride would have chafed at being reduced to that. Dressing up their wanting to control the world as saving it."

"Please, I got enough of Bane's little oppressed people rhetoric in Gotham. The thugs still took everything."

"It must have been cathartic to kill him."

Batman bound at Bane's feet had made her press the firing control. "He earned his fate."

"Indeed." The bodyguard returned and handed her a manila envelope larger than her clutch purse with a short bow. "Your payment."

She opened the envelope as the bodyguard returned to his position. Inside was one wrapped stack of fifties and one wrapped stack of tens. She looked up. "The cufflinks are not worth this much, Sir Edmund. If you're paying for something else?"

"Consider it a bonus for dealing with a terrorist threat. I doubt the United States was so generous."

"Not with cash, no."

He nodded. "Besides, you have an expensive kitten to feed now."

She narrowed her eyes. "She hasn't cost me too much yet."

"You haven't plugged yourself into the Hong Kong underground." He wiped his lips with a napkin. "That's not a criticism; a vacation, after what you went through, is deserved. But someone priced her head at half a million dollars as long as it is attached to her body. My Dragons have been instructed to ignore the bounty, but we are not the only group in Hong Kong."

"Thank you for telling me. I'm afraid I have to go pack now."

"One good turn deserves another. It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Kyle." He stood up with her and reached for her hand. He kissed it. "Joigin."

"Good-bye."

She clutched her purse and the envelope, smiling as hotel guests entered her elevator. Half a million dollars alive? It had to be Cassandra's father. He had that kind of resources? Selina didn't even know who she was sneaking Cassandra away from. This may just be his starting bid. The envelope crinkled as her fist tightened. No man that gave his daughter that many scars in the name of training would get her back. She would claw his face off first. The elevator opened on the lobby floor. She strode past the bar. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man sitting next to the doorway jump up and walked after her.

She whipped her head like she was looking up and down the street, and saw that he lingered in the foyer. Her heart pounded, but she waved off the taxi. She headed toward the subway station. This asshole thought he would take her? He needed reeducation. She turned into an alley with a set of stairs heading downhill. She paused on the landing, jumped, and tucked her purse and the envelope between the air conditioning units on a metal shelf above her head.

Bamboo scaffolding leaned against the building at the bottom of the steps. She held onto it as she walked up the building and climbed onto another metal shelf above a stretched-out awning. Footsteps echoed as she squeezed between another set of air conditioners. He scurried down the steps and stopped when he saw the parked cargo truck that blocked the end of the alley. 

Selina grabbed the awning support and swung. Her feet slammed against his back. She landed on the wet concrete. He caught himself against the cargo truck with a grunt, but whirled around. "You won't see the price on her head. Hope you haven't spent it already." She hiked up her dress and kicked.

He blocked it with a sweep of his arm and surged off the truck. She ducked and sidestepped out of the grapple, and hit the back of his thigh with her foot. He didn't even stumble as he turned to sweep her feet. She nailed his temple with her backhand. He hit above her breast with an open-hand strike. Her shoulder blades bounced against the concrete wall, but she kept her head from knocking against it. His forearm pressed against her upper chest, pinning her to the wall as he stepped closer to finish the pin. Her coiled knee and her jaw dropped as he stepped into the light.

"There's a price on your head?" Bruce Wayne asked.


	5. Chapter Five

  


Bruce felt her chest rise under his arm, so Selina breathed despite her alarming white face. Her limbs slacked so much; he kept his arm against her to keep her standing. "Selina?" He shouldn't have chased after her tonight. "Your meeting with Dorrance couldn't have earned a price on your head, not if he was letting you leave through the front door." She blinked at him. "What's going on?"

Her cheeks flushed under her make-up. "No autopilot, you lying, self-righteous--!"

He interrupted, "Can we get into that after you tell me who put a bounty on you?"

"They put a statue of you in City Hall like you're some kind of martyred saint, you bastard!"

"You can call me whatever you want after you tell me who wants to kill you."

Selina shoved him and he stepped back. "Your initiated playmates want to kill me, Wayne." He followed her up the stairs. She stood on the banister railing and reached between the air conditioning units. "Probably because they don't dare risk going to America and getting Gordon." She stretched further and he swallowed. "But they're doing it for free."

He stepped on the railing, and fished out a clutch purse and a manila envelope. "The little girl staying with you has a price on her head? Why?"

"How long have you been stalking me, you paranoid psycho?" She snatched her belongings.

He hadn't expected anger over his resurrection. Would everyone he planned on telling be angry too? Granted, a child was in danger and the League of Shadows had been harassing her; his timing could be a lot better. But the psychopath label stung. "Just since yesterday," he said.

She glared before climbing up the steps. "Her name is Cassandra. Dorrance told me the price is a half a million for her alive." She waved at a taxi leaving Hotel Icon.

"But who wants her?"

"You're welcome to go interrogate Dorrance if you want." The taxi pulled over in front of them. Bruce opened the door and climbed in after her.

"Eaton House on Wan Chai Gap Road." Selina leaned back and stared at him. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Is that a question you want to ask a psychopath?" He crossed his arms.

"I was quoting a lyric from a song by Puddle of Mudd. You're no crazier than I am. Most of the time." She glanced out the window as the taxi descended into the tunnel across Victoria Harbor. "Are you going to be upset about paranoid next?"

"No, everybody calls me that."

She reached behind her neck. "I suppose you want these back."

He caught her left hand before she unlatched the pearl necklace. "It was a gift."

"It was your mother's." 

"And I gave it to you." Her hand was warm inside his as they rested on her thigh. His heart pounded, and he couldn't blame it on their scuffle.

"Did we give you a nice tour of Hong Kong Island today?"

"You could have gone up the Peak."

"After shopping most of the day with a kid who thinks more than one set of clothes is too many?" Her fingers flexed, but she aimed her worried eyes out the window as the taxi exited the tunnel. He squeezed her hand. She turned back to him. "Besides, I went up my first day here, fighting jet lag. You didn't go your first trip here?"

"Too busy." The taxi pulled up at the Eaton House. Bruce let go of her hand and pulled out his wallet.

* * *

Selina let Bruce pay for the cab. It was the least he owed her. She strode up to the building and ignored how her left hand still tingled. She concentrated on the sinking in her gut that she needed to get to Cassandra now.

Bruce caught the door she swung open. "Does anyone know she's here?"

"We've both beat up League soldiers. I don't think we've led them here." She hit the elevator button. His eyebrows were raised. "But we haven't hid in this neighborhood."

He waited until they were alone in the ascending elevator. "You both beat up League soldiers?" She glared at him. "She's just a little girl."

"Let me know when you want to say that to her face. I'll have the ice pack ready."

The elevator door slid open on the sixteenth floor. Grunts and Cantonese shouts met them in the hall. Her apartment door was open. Bruce stepped in front of her as a man rolled out of her door. He slammed against the opposite wall. Bruce kicked the intruder before he stood, and shoved through the door. Selina hiked up her dress and charged in after him.

Cassandra leaped from the window seat and spun kicked in the air. The man between her and the sofa caught her foot with his temple. He crumpled and slumped over another man already prone on the carpet. Cassandra landed on the sofa, fists up while she bounced on the cushion.

A soldier stood in front of the closet and raised a handgun. Selina's throat closed as she followed his sightline. Bruce's right fist slugged his face and his other hand seized the gun. The soldier slammed against the laminate wood and slid down. Bruce detached the clip and the barrel one handed. The useless pieces hit the floor before his opponent.

Two more men ran forward from the kitchenette. Selina kicked the one on her left. Her foot caught his chin and he flailed down onto the table. It flipped over and landed on him.

The last one traded blows with Bruce until Bruce landed an uppercut. The soldier fell back between the table legs.

Selina picked her way through the limbs of the men on the floor to keep her balance rather than spare them pain. The television swayed on one screw. Cassandra stared at Bruce and remained in a defensive stance. Selina braced herself against the sofa's arm and got in her line of sight. "Are you okay? Your stitches?"

Cassandra shifted to the sofa's arm and pointed at Bruce. "League."

"No, he's not in the League. Now let me see your stitches." Cassandra still wore the unitard and she couldn't see a bloodstain on the black Lycra.

Cassandra stomped her foot and pointed at the men at Selina's feet. "League fight." Her finger shifted to Bruce. "League fight!"

Bruce didn't shift from beside the bedroom door. "You fight like the League of Shadows too."

Cassandra scowled. "No. Me better."

"Gotham, Cassandra." Her confused eyes looked at Selina before looking at Bruce again. Selina tugged on Cassandra's arm. She moved closer and Selina peeked down the unitard. The suture on her left pectoral muscle was whole. "Good, don't have to restitch that. Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No safe. Father target." Cassandra glanced at Bruce again. "No dead?"

"Thanks for the reminder, kid." Selina cupped Cassandra's cheeks. "Focus. Are you bleeding?"

"No."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"There's a price on your head. These men came here for you. We have to leave Hong Kong now."

"Me target?" Cassandra tapped her breast bone.

"Yes, but I'll keep you safe. I promise." Cassandra's eyes darted to Bruce. "He's got some explaining to do, but he won't hurt us. Get dressed in what you wore home today and pack your things in the new suitcase. Okay?"

"Okay." Cassandra hopped onto the pile of men before landing in front of the shopping bags piled by the window seat.

Selina looked at Bruce's impassive face, but he didn't say anything. She shoved the soldier away from the closet with her foot. She slid the damaged door open and pulled everything off the rod. She hugged the clothes and hangers and grabbed her suitcase. She carried it all to her bed. The small rolling suitcase already hid her catsuit and work boots. The manila envelope rested on top that compartment, but she dropped the clutch into her larger black purse. She unzipped her black dress, shimmied out of it, and rolled it into her suitcase before draping the clothes on the hangers inside it.

"Where?" Bruce stood in the bedroom door and blinked. She walked to the bathroom, closed her toiletries bag, and picked up the pants and blouse she had worn early today. He shook his head as she moved back to the bed. Behind her, he cleared his throat. "Where are you going?"

He had held a conversation with her packing before; what was wrong with him now? Her face heated as she zipped the suitcase closed. She hadn't strutted around him in her underwear back in Gotham. "Wherever the next plane out of here is headed." 

"I have a house out of the country. They won't think to look for you there."

She looked over her shoulder. He tilted his head, overcompensating for her almost catching him staring at her ass. "I can get off this island."

"I want to help, Selina."

It was a compulsion with the man, but if accepting meant she got answers, that could be a fair trade. "Fine, start by finding my laptop. I left it by the sofa." He nodded and left the doorway. She stepped into the black pants and pulled on the black knit blouse before carrying her suitcase and purse out of the bedroom.

Cassandra had pulled her jeans and shirt over the unitard and stood guard at the apartment's door. Selina's laptop bag and Cassandra's suitcase waited with her. She turned as Selina crouched to check her laptop. "Father target. No safe."

Plastic rattled inside the bag. Great, now she had to buy a replacement. "Your father won't find us. And I'll keep you safe." She slung it over her shoulder. 

Bruce was next to the stairwell door with his cell phone at his ear. He finished up the call and headed to them. Cassandra stomped her foot and scowled. He ignored the display of temper. "There's a car from my hotel coming for us. Stairs?"

"It's closest to the back way out."

Bruce took Selina's suitcase then picked up Cassandra's. "I have to check out of my hotel and then we can go to the airport." He pushed open the door with his back.

Cassandra's hand slipped into Selina's. "With you."

"Ditto, kid. Let's go."


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story joins the [Cassandra Cain Appreciation Month](http://inthenameofcassandracain.tumblr.com/post/90517724441/i-dont-kill-but-i-dont-lose-either-in).

  


Cassandra's shy façade lasted until the flight crew shut the cockpit door on the chartered Hawker 800XP. She shook her head. "No safe, no safe, no safe! Seen him. Father target!" She pointed to Bruce, and he saw tears pooling in her eyes. "No safe."

This level of fear was easier to take hidden behind the cowl. "Neih sīkḿhsīk góng gwóngdùngwá a? Ngóh giujouh Bruce."

Selina glared at him as she tucked the blanket over the divan's cushions. "Before you go through all the languages you know, she's using what English she knows and that's all she knows. Daddy Dearest thought fighting was more important than conversation." She turned to Cassandra who studied the jet's outer door. "Cassandra, you sleep here like the sofa. Only when you wake up, we'll be in--" she looked at Bruce again.

"Italy, Florence, to be precise."

"No safe!"

"Calm down," Selina said. She pulled out a steno pad and a small box of color pencils from her purse. "We can't stay in Hong Kong. So draw what you're trying to tell me, okay?"

"Yes." The little girl sniffled as she climbed on the divan and took the pad and box from Selina.

The pilot's voice interrupted via the intercom. "We have permission from the tower to begin take-off, if you would please take your seats."

Bruce sat across the aisle and put his back to Cassandra. Maybe that would put her at ease. Selina stowed her purse in the coat closet and sat in the seat in front of him. "Tell me everything."

He glanced at the shut cockpit door. "There's not much to tell." Selina pressed her lips together as the jet sped down the runway. She hadn't forgotten her anger; just set it aside until now. He would be more impressed if it wasn't aimed at him.

Once the jet reached cruising altitude, she inhaled and he braced himself for a shout to shatter the stemware. But her voice--while strident--was low enough not to alarm the flight crew or Cassandra. "Two months! Two months I thought you were dead. I sent flowers to your funeral."

"Really? What did you pick out?" Her glare turned murderous. "No one has sent me flowers before," he said.

"Red roses, mourning bride, and pink carnations; Gordon told me it looked lovely."

"You didn't go?"

"I'm flattered you think I'm that shameless. But considering you let them go through with it, you win the shameless category."

Bruce unfastened his seatbelt to hide his squirm. He didn't like the thought of what he put Alfred through, and what Selina was hinting that she went through. "It was over by the time I found out about it."

"So now that Gotham's safe, it's time for us to settle accounts?" The anger faded into a wall for her to hide behind.

He thought they were past that, but her expression reminded him of the retribution she had expected when he gave her the CleanSlate. He would reassure her as often as she needed it that he wouldn't double cross her. "You saved my life and you helped save Gotham. If you're worried about owing something for this," he gestured at the opulent cabin, "I have a vested interest in thwarting the League of Shadows."

Selina leaned against the leather seat, and broke out one of her teeth-baring grins. "So you finally get around to telling me you're alive. Am I the first one to hit you for it?"

"You're the first one to know. I had to heal." Her gaze roved over him. He stripped off his jacket and pulled his shirt up on his left side.

Her brown eyes widened as her mouth slacked. He tucked his shirt back over the ragged scar. He had been lucky the blade had to go through the armor and his scar tissue. "Bane stuck you with a kris?" she asked.

"Straight knife twisted and I always make a bloody mess stitching myself up. But it was Talia, in revenge for her father." Miranda Tate's true identity had been given, and he doubted he needed to explain further to Selina.

Cassandra silently padded up the aisle until she stood beside Selina's chair. "Ra's al Ghul," she said.

Bruce didn't frown, but his forehead crinkled in confusion. "How do you know that name? He died before you were born."

"You know." She scowled as she waved the notepad in Selina's direction. "You League."

"Don't make me the referee between you two." Selina seized the notepad. "This plane isn't big enough for a three-way fight. You drew a bedroom." She held the notepad so he saw the crude collection of squares and rectangles. One long rectangle had a square like a pillow drawn on it.

"Father bed."

"This is your bedroom when you lived with your father or your father's bedroom?" Selina asked.

"Me." Cassandra pointed to Bruce and then pointed to the wall perpendicular to the bed. "Picture here. Target in mem?" She huffed.

"Target in memory of Ra's al Ghul?" Bruce offered.

"Yes." She turned to Selina. "No safe."

Selina looked at Bruce. "That book, _How to Make Friends and Influence People_? I don't think you're following it right."

He raised his eyebrows rather than concede that she had a point.

Cassandra huffed again. "More."

"Sorry for interrupting. Go on."

Cassandra held out her hand at her waist and then moved it up to her ear. "Me show Talia fight. Talia see picture. Talia tells Father no." Cassandra pantomimed ripping down a poster and tearing it up. "Talia leaves. War in Gotham."

_Nothing subtle about that at all._ Bruce froze before he snarled and stalked to the mini-bar at the front of the cabin. Cassandra's father and Talia disagreed over revenge, and Talia won the fight. He stared at his reflection in the lacquered wood facing of the cabinets.

"Bruce," Selina said. "No, he's not mad at you," she told Cassandra.

"You want anything? The plane is fully stocked." He grabbed a bottle of water.

"Don't tempt me with good liquor when I must keep a clear head. Cassandra? Just water for me."

He carried back two water bottles. Cassandra tucked herself between Selina's legs and fastened her gaze on him as he passed a bottle to Selina. He tried to release his bitterness. "Who is your father, Cassandra?"

Cassandra shrugged.

Selina set her bottle in one of the cup holders. "She doesn't know his name. I couldn't find him, and I wanted to have a conversation about his child-rearing techniques."

Cassandra twisted, knelt on the seat, and latched her arms around the older woman. "Selina no fight Father!" Her arms tightened. "Selina no fight Father!"

She rubbed the distressed girl's back. "I stopped looking for him. No mother in her picture at all," she told Bruce.

And she latched onto Selina of all the women in Hong Kong. Bruce drank to hide his smile. There really was more to her than what she projected. "Your father was part of the League of Shadows?"

Cassandra's voice was muffled as she pressed against Selina. "You League. League bad."

That explained her reaction. He rested his arms on his thighs. "The League of Shadows trained me and I left them." Cassandra dropped to the floor, pressed her back against Selina, and shook her head. "They wanted me to kill a man and destroy Gotham City. I fought them, burnt their temple down, and then stopped them from destroying Gotham."

"The Narrows Riot?" Selina asked.

Bruce nodded. "Ra's al Ghul died on the train that crashed into the old Wayne Tower. The train he hijacked to spread fear toxin all over the city."

"You don't kill."

"I didn't save him from the path of destruction he caused. I've only had to make that decision three times."

Cassandra's face scrunched up as she stared at him. Selina leaned over to see the expression. "You still don't trust Bruce?"

"No liar. League no free."

"Can you give him the same chance you gave me?"

Cassandra twisted to face Selina. "Selina trust Bruce?"

"Yes, I do. Besides, the League thinks he's dead."

"Chance yes." Cassandra yawned.

He doubted she would accept him more than that. "Is your father in what's left of the League?"

"No League. Father help League do bad."

That explained their similarity in fighting styles. "Does your father kill people for money?"

She looked down until all he saw was the crown of her brown hair. "Yes."

"Are you narrowing a pool of suspects?" Selina asked.

"Establishing his profile. Did your father want you to be an assassin too?"

She shuffled her feet. "Yes. Me run."

"Wow, what a guy. As if questionable training methods and not teaching her to talk wasn't bad enough." Selina hugged Cassandra and pressed her cheek on Cassandra's head. Cassandra stifled her yawn as she looked up.

Bruce leaned eye-level with her. "I won't betray you to your father, Cassandra. I promise to keep you safe from him. You and Selina both."

"Okay."

"Come on," Selina released Cassandra. "Sleep now." She pushed Cassandra to the divan. "Turn down the lights please."

Bruce adjusted the controls so only ambient lights nestled around the cabin remained on. He left his tablet phone on the shelf beneath the window while he hung his jacket in the coat closet. He returned to his seat and Selina handed him a pillow and a lightweight cashmere throw. "She's asleep already?"

"After a busy day, all you have to do is get her to stop moving." Selina tossed a beige throw around her shoulders before sitting. "Today has been a busy day."

He tucked the pillow behind his head and watched her recline her seat. "When you say questionable training?"

She sat up and craned her neck to look at Cassandra. "I mean what you, I, and every justice system in the world would call abuse. Her scars...." Selina winced. "She's only eight years old. I've seen adults with less scar tissue."

He remembered Cassandra's back. "And the League wants her."

"I'm sure her father put up the money, but they called her a weapon. They can't get their hands on her."

"We'll keep her safe, Selina."

She blinked and smiled shyly. "It's a lousy way to spend your new life, caught up in my problems."

"You'd rather I be bored to death?" 

"So that's the reason you keep coming back for more."

"One of them," he admitted despite the squeeze in his chest trying to stop him. "Get some sleep."

"Get some yourself, Bruce. We need you awake in Italy." She curled her legs onto the seat and turned on her side.

He smiled before focusing his attention to his tablet. He connected to the computer in the Batcave and searched for assassins in his database. Floyd Lawton a.k.a. Deadshot was still serving time in federal prison for various murders committed and one attempt on a police officer's life. No family members known. Slade Wilson a.k.a. Deathstroke was wanted by Interpol for numerous assassinations, but only had two sons and an ex-wife listed under his next of kin.

He frowned and opened the program to search the various databases he had access to. Looking for assassinations and assassination attempts connected with suspected League of Shadows activities would take hours. He let it run in the background of the Batcave computer and disconnected. He opened up an Internet search and typed _the language of flowers_ into the search box.


	7. Chapter Seven

  


Selina shielded her eyes against the bright Italian sun. Sleep en route--even on a luxurious private jet--wasn't the same as sleep in a bed, and it felt too early for the sun to be this high. Cassandra clung to Selina's left hand while her wide eyes scanned the bustling airport. Selina heard the drone of a busy highway behind the terminal buildings and glanced back at Bruce who thanked the flight crew for a smooth flight.

The airport official reached Selina and Cassandra. "Buongiorno! Welcome to Firenze. Passports please?"

"Good morning." Selina pulled their passports out of her purse.

"Do you have anything to declare?"

"Not this trip," Bruce answered as he offered his passport.

The customs official took it while frowning at Selina and Cassandra's. "Cassandra Wayne is your daughter, Signora Barr?"

"I never took my late husband's name. Do you need to see a copy of the adoption papers?" Selina pulled out that sheet of paper while Cassandra stared at the official.

"My apologies and condolences, Signora Barr." He passed the adoption certificate back and stamped their passports. "Enjoy your stay in Italy, Signor Grey."

"Grazie." Bruce took back his stamped passport, and gestured at the airport terminal. "Do you fancy a quick bite here or rather try our luck in town? I'm not sure how far away the house is."

Selina ignored the sudden English timbre to his voice as she grabbed her suitcase. "Better eat here. Cassandra wakes up hungry."

"Hungry," Cassandra repeated.

He contained his amusement until they were tucked in a semi-private corner of a café with their food. "You named her Cassandra Wayne?" His hazel eyes crinkled.

"Do you want to pay child support, Mr. Grey?" she groused as she sipped her coffee. It was too early to spar.

He consulted Cassandra's passport while the girl under discussion stole his toast. "If this birth date is right, she was born three weeks after I left Hong Kong. I didn't visit that long."

She reached and snatched it from his hand. "Impressive, Mr. Grey. It's been a long time since someone dipped into my purse."

"I was aiming for the adoption papers."

"Her father was Alfred Wayne."

The strangest sound emerged from his throat. It was too loud for a chuckle, but his expression was too delighted for it to be a snort. She decided to call it a chortle unless he convulsed and hit the floor. She grabbed empty air instead of her muffin and glanced to her right. Cassandra's cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's. Selina shook her head. "I knew you didn't order enough. Chew and swallow."

Cassandra wrinkled her nose, but her jaw moved.

Selina pulled her purse to her lap. "You can order more food if you need more." She dug for her wallet.

"I got it." Bruce slid a card out of his wallet and passed it to Cassandra. She swallowed before taking the card and leaving the table.

"Buy him more toast and me another muffin," Selina called after her. Cassandra nodded and headed for the café's counter. Selina placed the passport inside her purse again.

"Alfred Wayne." His eyes and mouth smiled over that. "I think you missed me."

"For such an obnoxious man, you are surprisingly easy to miss," she admitted. There was a limit on admissions; telling him she cried over his picture, hell no. "But you prefer eccentric as a description, don't you?"

"I'll own my fair share of obnoxious behavior. One day, I'll tell you how Bruce Wayne ended up with the Gotham Arms."

"Sounds intriguing. I don't think I caught your given name, Mr. Grey." She took a bite of her eggs.

"It's Hemingford, actually Sir Hemingford Bruce Grey. If your friend Dorrance can buy a knighthood, so can I." His lips tightened before he cut into his prosciutto.

That put his jumping up wallet first in a new light. "It was only a business meeting attached to a diner meeting he already had set up. He couldn't resist singing 'Ding Dong Bane is Dead,' but he was kind enough not to double cross me and warned me about Cassandra. I was only there to trade my cufflinks for cash."

He started to say something, but stopped when Cassandra set down two plates and climbed into her seat. She handed him his credit card. "Thank you. Got enough to eat now?" Cassandra nodded and he picked a slice of toast from the second plate. Selina took her replacement muffin.

After breakfast, Bruce rented a Fiat Sedici for their tourist family charade. The map Bruce plotted on his tablet sent them through the outskirts of Florence and onto an overpass that bridged over the Arno River. Cassandra kept her nose pressed against the window as she sat on the back seat behind Bruce. The area was as hilly as Hong Kong, but instead of glass skyscrapers reaching for the clouds, the yellow and red-roofed buildings of Florence slouched to the ground. Selina twisted her head like she was fascinated scenery, but her gaze lingered on Bruce's profile as he drove.

She had never found a man who matched her proclivity for adaptation before. Haunted shut-in, eccentric billionaire, disgraced businessman, caped crusader, and now acting like a devoted father: will the real Bruce Wayne please stand up? Her gaze catalogued his features as if that would help: brown hair lighter than photographs of his father's and flecked with grey at his temples, the raised jagged line on his forehead courtesy of Bane, a straight nose no longer than her own, and a pair of lips that hinted at other talents with how quickly they could shift expressions.

"You're thinking awfully loud over there," he said. She got caught staring, so she grinned at him, the one Jen had named bye-bye canary. He glanced at her, then the map on his tablet, her again, and focused on the traffic. "I don't want to know."

"Do you need help navigating?"

"You can read Italian?"

"Enough to get us there. If you want non-translated _Divine Comedy_ read out loud, not happening." She compared the map to the street they drove down. "Turn left onto SS67 at the roundabout."

"Are you a fan of Renaissance literature?" He turned onto the major highway lined with apartment buildings and townhouses.

"Had to read the _Inferno_ for a class. If I'm a fan of anything, it's the tangible mediums. Florence has lots of museums, right?"

He fought not to frown. "When do you plan on visiting them?"

"When do you want to go?" She smirked. "I usually give them at least one admission. They're open for the entire public to enjoy, after all. Do you like art or did you just buy because someone told you it was a good investment?"

"We found works by the same artists to replace what was lost when I rebuilt the Manor. Otherwise, I haven't purchased any art." He shrugged. "It didn't fit the obnoxious billionaire playboy image other than pretending to get drunk at art exhibits."

"Turn right onto Via della Casa Giovanni. It merges with Via Pisana." She looked at the buildings lining the new street. A few buildings changed their facades from a rough stone finish to a smooth one, but they all had the same type of poured concrete balcony that acted like a porch for the door. She waited until after he merged their vehicle onto Via Pisana before asking a prying question. "Was there anything you enjoyed about the billionaire playboy?"

"Lamborghinis are fun to drive, as you well know." Bruce grinned as they turned onto another tree-lined street. 

Selina glanced back at Cassandra. "You okay back there?"

"Yes." She glanced at Selina with wide eyes before going back to the window. "Many trees but roads?"

"They have parks with trees too, but the trees were probably planted when this road was the driveway to that palace." Selina pointed to the Villa del Poggo Imperiale as they drove past its main gate. "Not much further now," Selina added as she consulted the map.

Bruce turned the car onto a road bordered by stone walls on both sides. As they drove past the first few black metal gates, the wall on the right shrank and revealed the ground sloping as a green pasture down into a valley.

Cassandra tapped Selina's seat. "Park?" She pointed to the pasture.

"It's fenced off, so it probably belongs to someone."

"Or it holds livestock," Bruce added. "I didn't research the neighbors when I bought the house."

"So why a house in Italy? Or do you have one in every country?"

"Just Italy." He turned the car left through an arch formed out of two stone pillars and a vine-covered arc. A stone wall and the upper story of a grey house were visible beyond the scraggly trees. The driveway took a sharp right turn up the hill behind a black metal gate. Bruce punched his code into the control box. "All other property belonged to Bruce Wayne, so it belongs to Alfred now. I put this one with the offshore assets because I wanted it to be a surprise."

Selina craned her neck to get a better glimpse of the house. He probably bought it to impress a girlfriend.

Bruce eased the car through the open gate. "Now the surprise is on us. I've never seen the place in person. It's supposed to be furnished."

"As long as it has a roof and walls, we can manage." Large trees extending their shade over the driveway and blocked the view over the stone wall bordering the house.

"I want to offer you better than just manageable."

Selina smiled as she shook her head. "Has anyone told you that you have extremely high expectations?"

"My standards start with myself." He smirked as he parked the car at the end of the wall.

They looked up at the three-story, ivy-covered tower as they climbed out of the car. The two-story, L-shaped house connected to it and surrounded the paved patio that reached from the loggia to the driveway. The ivy was trimmed around the arches. A wooden fence separated the driveway and the lawn with a mini-orchard of olive trees behind the car.

"Pa-lace?" Cassandra asked. "Story house? With dragons?"

"Castle?" Selina supplied and Cassandra nodded.

"It's not a castle or a palace, just a villa," Bruce answered. "But the tower is medieval."

Cassandra blinked and looked at Selina. "We'll take you to a castle so you can learn the difference," Selina said. "Let's check out the interior of your not-a-castle."

He led the way across the patio to the massive wooden door under the loggia's arches. Sunlight forced its way through the skylight over the stairs facing the doorway. "First thing, find the electric panel."

"They didn't tell you where it was when you bought it?" Selina called after him as he stepped into the shadows.

"I bought it over a decade ago. My memory's not that good." He moved silently over the cotta floors, but they heard another door open and cabinet hinges squeak. "Try a light switch," Bruce called back to them.

The light switch in the room to the right of the stairs was visible thanks to the sunlight. The chandelier flooded the room with light and Cassandra recoiled. "Too red."

"Exactly," Selina agreed. The white vines and pagodas had been painted onto the red wallpaper, because there were large rectangular patches where the artist hadn't bothered to move the furniture. Two niches hadn't been papered, but had rods installed to turn them into closets. Bruce rounded the corner and stood in the doorway. "Your house needs a decorator's touch."

"I agree. I think the appliances in that kitchen are older than I am." He pointed over his shoulder.

"You think takeout comes all the way out here?" Selina brushed past him to the next room. It could be a bedroom, but with a door to the kitchen and a door leading outside, it would probably make a better office. Either way, it wasn't furnished to give a hint. She pushed open the outer door. Cassandra and Bruce followed her out into another patio area bordered by a high stone wall as old as the tower and screened from view by trimmed trees and shrubs. "You hired a good gardener at least."

"The property management company did." Bruce circled the rickety table standing in the center of the space. "Remind me to call them about us moving in." He continued studying the shielded spot even after she assented to reminding him. "This makes an excellent training area."

"Training?" Cassandra smiled before biting her lip.

"Are you serious?" Selina crossed her arms.

"Yes, we need to be ready if the League finds us again, and here won't alarm the neighbors."

"What about alarming me?"

"Selina train." Cassandra's solemn brown eyes looked up. "Selina fight League bad."

Selina scowled as she pointed at Bruce. "He has run from them too."

"Because they pulled out guns and I didn't want you shot." His lips twitched to contain his smirk.

"Fine." Selina threw up her hands. "I'll add a first aid kit to the shopping list." She marched back into the house through the second door off the patio. Bruce had opened the top half of the door, and she saw he was right about the appliances in the galley kitchen. She opened the shutters at the other end and found another door onto the loggia. "Any idea what's on the south side of the villa?"

"There's supposed to be a formal living room on the first floor." Bruce took the lead again back into the house. They found that room with a gorgeous fireplace on the left side of the staircase. Beyond it was a greenhouse with plenty of space for plants too delicate for Italy's climate.

The staircase led into an open living room filled with armchairs and side tables. The dark wood rafters contrasted with the white plaster walls. A half-wall partition separated the living room and the kitchen. Selina went in it while Bruce opened the windows. "These appliances are newer, and we have dishes." She closed the cabinet door. "It's not an eat-in kitchen."

He poked his head through the doorway leading to the right off the kitchen. "Dining room is in here, and a door that must go into the tower. There's supposed to be five bedrooms, plus two rooms in the tower that could be bedrooms."

"You do like to live spaciously." He retreated back to the living room and she joined him. "Cassandra?"

"Selina." They looked up. Cassandra waved through an open window cut above the stairwell. It had a black metal railing installed that created a balcony effect. "Bed."

They climbed the last flight of stairs. The skylight made windows unnecessary, but there was the one to the living room and another at the top of the stairs, opaque for privacy in the bathroom. Bruce and Selina stooped under the massive roof beams, while Cassandra bounced her butt on the bare mattress. "Do you want to sleep here?" Bruce asked her.

"Yes!"

Selina pulled her head in from the door that led to a rooftop terrace. "A couple of rules." Cassandra wrinkled her nose. "You must use the stairs to enter and exit. The only exceptions are fire and invasion."

Cassandra pouted, "Yes."

"And no practicing or training in here. You'll crack your skull open."

"Train outside?"

"Train only outside."

Cassandra nodded. "Yes."

Bruce grinned. "Do I get rules too?"

"You probably need more rules than she does." Selina opened the built-in cabinets along the lowest portion of the wall until she found sheets and a blanket. "Now pay attention, both of you. I'm not about to be the only person who knows how to clean in this house."


	8. Chapter Eight

  


They parked the car at Mercato Centrale and set off on foot to complete the shopping expedition. The computer store Bruce wanted was on Via degli Alfani, Selina thought she could finish her list in the Mercato di San Lorenzo, and Cassandra frowned when he held out a stack of Euros for her. "Buy something for your room," he said.

"Room?" She took the money as if she was handling a bomb.

"Whatever you want for your room." She still looked confused as she went off with Selina. Bruce shook his head. And he thought he had trust issues.

He purchased two laptops--one the closest match to Selina's crushed model and the second a simple netbook for Cassandra--the tools to transfer Selina's old hard drive to the new computer, a television set, and made arrangements for internet and satellite service to be installed tomorrow. He took the equipment to the car, Selina and Cassandra met him there, and Cassandra packed her shopping bag. Selina wore a blue linen sundress with new sandals, along with the pearls that she hadn't taken off. "You look good in blue," he said as she set her bag with her previous outfit inside the car.

"It's too hot for black here," she answered with a smirk. Cassandra set her bag next to the television. "Don't you want to show Bruce what you bought?"

"She doesn't--" But Cassandra pulled a rolled up bundle of rope and plastic rungs out before he finished. "A rope ladder?"

Cassandra held up two fingers. "For room."

"Okay." He closed the car's back door. He often felt his childhood was stolen, but this little girl didn't even know how to be a child. "Lunch before groceries?"

"Hungry!" Cassandra hopped. Bruce pointed to the café and she skipped ahead of them.

"At first, I thought she was making up for meals she missed," Selina said in a low voice. "Now I think the reason she kicks so hard is all the food she eats goes into her legs."

"You don't think her father withheld food from her too?"

"She'd be in worse shape if he had." Cassandra waited for them at the entrance of the sidewalk café. A trio of musicians claimed one end of the roped-off section and played a lively tune on a cello, violin, and guitar. A few patrons danced in the cleared space before the tables. Selina excused herself after the waiter took their drink orders.

Cassandra watched Selina sashay to the café's interior, and Bruce watched the little girl. She hadn't reacted badly since Selina had engineered the truce, but that didn't mean that hostilities wouldn't resume. Cassandra looked at the dancers in front of the band, and then at him with a forehead furrowed. "Gotham picture. You Selina dance."

"There's a picture of that?" He hadn't realized there was a photographer inside the fundraiser.

"Yes." Cassandra looked at the dancers again. "You Selina dance now."

"Why?"

"Selina want dance."

He glanced at the café door. The woman in question was returning to their table with a swaying rhythm matching the bass of the cello. "And you're telling me, why?"

"Selina happy." Cassandra picked up her menu; even though he was sure she couldn't read Italian.

The waiter with their drinks was behind Selina, so he studied his menu. "Do you like pizza?"

"Yes."

"We decided on pizza, if you like," he said to Selina as she slid into her seat.

"Better make it a large."

Pizza toppings agreed upon, the waiter took their order, and it was time. "May I have this dance?" Selina blushed as she assented. They joined the others on the cobblestones, and the band slowed the tempo of their next song. "Thank you for another dance."

"Honestly, I wanted another dance."

"So honesty is our policy now?"

The smile dropped off her lips. "I have always been honest with you."

"Even while double crossing me?" He meant it as a joke, but Selina recoiled. He tightened his grip and pulled her against his chest. "I'm sorry," he said into her ear. "You did warn me, but I was too overconfident to listen."

Her other hand returned to his shoulder and she leaned against him as they danced. "If I knew then what I know now, I would have dragged you out of the tunnels by your cape."

That mental image made him grin, and he slid his hand to the small of her back. "I'd like to know what your plan was, if you want to talk about it. You weren't supporting Bane's distraction of a revolution when I found you."

"I was rooting for Batman to win," Selina said drolly. "I just didn't think it would happen, not with Bane's trigger-happy boys around. But you being Batman ruined everything."

"You were going to run to the ex-billionaire Bruce Wayne and do what?"

"Confess and drag you out of Gotham."

"I wouldn't have gone."

She pulled back so he saw her smirk. "It's amusing that you think you'd have had a say."

"You said you didn't have a choice about staying. Bane kept you prisoner until they cut off Gotham?"

"No, I got locked up in Blackgate waiting for trial thanks to your friend Blake."

"And you broke out."

"Bane saved me the trouble." She sagged against him. "Change the subject, why reveal yourself to me ahead of everyone else?"

Bruce brushed his lips across her cheek on the path to her ear. "I missed you."

"You can have any woman you want. Why me?"

"You're not afraid of me."

"No cryptic games, Bruce. I don't have the energy for them from you."

"My best friend, I never saw my life without her in it. I think she felt the same way, until Batman. He scared her. She fell in love with someone else, who didn't wear a mask and wasn't so angry at the world."

"That sucks. But you're right. I understand what the civilians don't."

"What didn't Rachel understand?"

She pressed against his chest again, and Bruce fought his desire to pin her there. "Who are you pretending to be? They're both your masks. The real you is somewhere in the middle of all the roles you've played. It's the same thing for me."

"Is there any hope for us?"

"Well, I'm not giving up when things are this interesting, but if we want any lunch, we need to go back to the table."

He turned and saw the waiter setting the pizza in front of Cassandra. Cassandra ate half of it and decided that she loved gelato after Selina bought her a cone as they went through the stalls of the market. He let Selina pick out the food, though he did pay for it.

"I hope this means you're not a picky eater." Selina said as she inspected a bunch of fresh spinach.

"It's rude to be picky, but I usually juice my greens. Did the kitchen have a blender or a juicer?"

"I did not take inventory of your appliances."

He ended up buying a juicer, and discovered that he didn't already have one in the villa. They spent the rest of the afternoon shoving the furniture around, and Bruce contacted the various maintenance services and rearranged the schedules to suit both parties. Selina made a light supper of grilled chicken and salad, which Cassandra ate with more gusto than he remembered having for lettuce at her age.

"I don't know about you two, but I'm for an early bed time tonight," Bruce said after the dishwasher was loaded.

"It's been a long day," Selina said. "Come on, Cass, I'll tuck you in."

"No Gotham?"

"You'll get Gotham tomorrow when the television is set up." The woman and the girl headed upstairs and Bruce made sure the house was locked up and the lights were off. He had claimed the bedroom with the largest bathroom next to the upstairs kitchen before they left, so he went straight to the shower.

Water ran over his head as he reviewed the day. Selina suspected that all he wanted was payback. _And who's fault was that, Bruce?_ She stole the pearls and humiliated him in private; he countered by playing an arrogant ass to take them back and humiliate her in public. And so it went until she saved his life. How differently would the fight against Bane have gone if he had given Selina reason to trust him earlier? He shut off the shower and grabbed the towel.

She trusted him versus the League of Shadows, but he wanted lingering kisses, not desperate hints at what could be because of a suicide mission. He wanted her laughter and widest grin coaxing humor out of him. He wanted to dance with her every time they found music and in between the sheets when they didn't. 

At least she hadn't told him he didn't stand a chance. She deserved amends for the way he treated her and evidence for how he felt about her now. He pulled on his pajama pants before switching off the bathroom light.

Moonlight filled the dark bedroom from the bare window. But he didn't need its help to see the curvy lumps under the sheet. "You're in my bed."

Selina rolled over and arched her back. "Do you want me to find another one?"

He sat on the mattress' edge and blocked the path to the door. The moonlight shimmered on her black nightie as she slid the sheet down. "No," he answered. His hands brushed against the spaghetti straps on her shoulders as they landed. Her lips met his and her arms circled his neck. One hand left the mattress to run up her back.

She purred with his stroke. Her hand ran into his still damp hair. His arm tightened around her. Her tongue surged into his mouth. Blood rushing from his head made him as dizzy as his worst concussion. He pulled back. Her large brown eyes fluttered open. "What's wrong?"

How she felt in his arms nearly derailed his train of thought. "Selina, you don't... no, I mean I don't want you to think... damn, I want you but...." He trailed off as her hand slid over his shoulder.

"Too fast?" Her fingers followed a scar across his pectoral muscle as she sat up.

"Maybe? I don't want it to be." His hands slid over the satin bunched at her hips. He touched her forehead with his. "I need you, but you don't owe me anything." He squeezed his eyes shut.

"That's not true." She cupped his jaw. "But that's not why I'm in your bed."

"Why?"

"Two months," her voice caught. His grip on her hips tightened. "I thought you were dead. Five months before that. I'm tired of mourning a man I barely know." His eyes flew open when her lips pressed against his.

They fell shut when her breasts flattened against his chest. Her nightie shifted under his grasp and he realized it was all she wore to his bed. His surge of lust peeled the satin over her head.

She grabbed his arm before he tossed the nightie aside. "Don't." All he managed was an incoherent noise. "Eight-year-old in the house. Need to dress after." She hung it on the headboard.

"Right," he said. The moonlight on her skin gave her a fey translucence. It was so much like the dreams he had since she first kissed him, he expected to jolt awake.

Selina pounced with a feral grin. His back landed across the mattress and her kisses descended his torso. Her fingers curled around the elastic on his pants. "Don't be shy."

Her coy tone hardened him more. "I hope now you're impressed." The silk fell off his dangling legs.

She flung his pajamas onto the headboard before straddling his torso. "Ask me that after." She bent and licked one of his more prominent scars.

He shivered at the sensation and reached for her breasts. His squeeze earned him a breathy moan. He drew her up until their faces aligned, kissed her again, and slid his hands down her body. "Do you like this?" he murmured. His fingers clutched her ass cheeks.

Her mouth latched onto his briefly before she sat up and impaled herself on him. "I've been wet for you since the alley." She ground against him.

Bruce managed to stop his eyes from rolling back when she clenched him. He stroked her hips and thighs. "I dreamed of you like this." The only thing missing was the string of pearls around her neck and he was not about to call a halt to correct a minor detail.

"Glad I made an impression." Her teeth flashed as she grinned.

He teased her clit until she moaned. "Impression doesn't cover it." Despite his subconscious preference for this position, his arms ached to hold her. He sat up, distracted her with a kiss, and rolled them over. He propped up on his forearms and cradled her.

She wrapped her legs and arms around him. "You have me right where you want me."

"Lucky me." He slid out of her and back in. Selina matched his rhythm and conversation descended into inarticulate sounds of pleasure until they both came. He reluctantly released her and donned his pajama pants again. "Will you stay?"

Her surprised expression popped out from her satin nightie. "Did I give you the impression I was leaving?"

"I meant this room. Unpack and make it ours." He settled under the sheets and on a pillow.

A smile chased away her seriousness. She laid her cheek on his chest. "Okay, but you still have to make the bed."

"If that's the price, I'm glad I paid attention to your lesson." He tucked his arm around her.


	9. Chapter Nine

  


Selina frowned at the closet rods installed along the wall of the room between the master bedroom and the master bathroom. "This is too nice of a space to treat like a walk-in closet," she called out.

Bruce grunted before he spoke. "We have to put our clothes somewhere."

"But a couple of wardrobes would do that without this cheap-ass but functional theme, and you could put a vanity in here, so make-up application doesn't take up bathroom space." She adjusted her sports bra and grabbed her yoga pants.

"Do you want to decorate?"

"I'm not throwing sheets over everything I think is too ugly to live with."

"Do I get any input or should I just give you a credit card?"

Cassandra swung open the master bedroom door. Selina pulled on her T-shirt and waved at her through the open doorway to the dressing room. The little girl wore the black unitard again. Selina reminded herself to peel it off her and wash it today. Cassandra waved back before stopping in front of the bed with a scowl. "No training inside."

"Not training," Bruce grunted. Selina peeked around the corner. He held himself up in a rigid Plank pose before executing a perfect push-up. "This is warming up."

Selina decided watching his back muscles flex was her new favorite way to warm up. The show ended too soon as he used Downward Dog to stand up. "I'll meet you outside," he said as he tugged his pajama pants up. Cassandra stared at the scars he had on his torso.

"Okay." Selina ushered Cassandra out of the bedroom and followed her out to the back patio. The tower and house shadowed the paved area and the hedges.

Cassandra pivoted. "Kata no good?"

"For warm-up exercises?" Cassandra nodded. "Everybody has a different routine that works for them. I have fun with yoga." She started a sun salutation.

"Fun?"

Selina paused in Cobra pose. "What makes you happy." Cassandra still looked puzzled. "Get used to the idea. You are going to learn how to have fun." She exhaled to the ground.

Cassandra started her kata. Selina finished her sun salutation and moved into more complicated back bends. She was curled into Scorpion pose when Bruce joined them. Selina eased out of it, keeping her breathing even, and stood up.

Bruce swallowed hard. "Right, who wants to go first?"

Cassandra took a running leap at Bruce. He dodged her kick. She landed on her feet and lashed out with a backwards kick. That caught his sweatpants-covered hip before he dodged.

Selina pressed her back against the house. Hopefully that gave the circling sparring partners enough room.

Bruce lunged forward to grab. Cassandra seized his arms and flipped over his head. Her feet landed on his back and she launched into another flip. Bruce grunted as he stumbled.

Cassandra spun a roundhouse kick into his stomach. Her elbows slammed into the small of his back. He straightened with a grunt of pain, grabbed her, and swept her upside down. Cassandra slammed both heels into his shoulders.

He lost his hold and she landed on her hands. She pushed off, slammed her feet into his chest, and crouched on him. He toppled against the weathered patio table. It splintered around them as Bruce yelled through gritted teeth.

"Bruce!" Selina didn't register her scream until Cassandra's face blanched as she scrambled off him. Selina jerked away planks of wood, but her brain wanted to add in wet concrete and metal grating. "Bruce!"

His hand wrapped around Selina's arm and he pulled himself up. "I'm all right." He glanced at the bleeding scrape on his left arm. "Glad I got that tetanus booster."

"You need an X-ray."

"I'm fine."

"After what Bane did to you! I'm calling an ambulance."

"You're scaring Cassandra." Selina turned. Cassandra's wide brown eyes brimmed with tears as she clutched her lower back. Bruce shifted his legs. "Help me up."

She leveraged him upright. "Don't pull that macho man crap on me."

"No numbness, no tingling, no pain, everything is where it should be," he felt his lower back, "but I won't turn down an ice pack."

"Sorry!" Cassandra flung her arms around his waist. "Go for weak."

"Nothing's wrong with your technique." Bruce cupped the back of her head. "We just have to set up formal sparring rules. And keep the patio clear of furniture."

"And mats," Selina added. "I'm not trading blows with either of you until we create a proper dojo."

"And mats," Bruce repeated as he put his right arm around Selina's shoulders. He steered them back inside. Cassandra released Bruce with a sniffle, and proceeded ahead of them.

Selina pushed him toward their bedroom. "I'll get the ice." She pulled out the largest Ziploc bag they had. "Cassandra," Selina handed her the broom. "Go throw away every piece of wood."

"Why?"

"Because if you make a mess, you have to clean it up. It's called being responsible."

"Okay." Cassandra headed downstairs while Selina emptied the ice trays into the Ziploc.

She found Bruce in the master bathroom wiping his arm with disinfectant. "Shirt off. Just humor me please," she said.

He peeled off the black T-shirt and turned so she could examine his back. "It's worth the breakthrough."

No bruises blossomed and his bones were all in place. "Breakthrough?"

"Cassandra hugged me." She met his crinkling eyes in the mirror. "Maybe she just needed to beat the crap out of me to like me."

"I'm going to beat the crap out of you next. Pass the band-aids."

* * *

Selina didn't hit but hugged him when Bruce presented her with the new laptop and offered to transfer the information from her smashed one. But she refused to give the netbook to Cassandra for him. "I had enough trouble with food, a place to sleep, and clothes. Besides, if you want her to trust you, you have to interact with her."

He couldn't deny that logic, but he also observed Selina putting the bag of ice back in the freezer when he went upstairs. Cassandra stood on her hands under the shortest portion of the roof. She dropped to her feet as soon as she saw him. "No training."

"I always meditate in Lotus pose." He sat down on her bed.

She looked him over. "No hurt?"

"I'm fine." He smiled and held out the netbook. "I bought this for you."

"What?" Her eyebrows nearly touched as she stared at it. He opened it and her face brightened. "Like Selina. Why?"

"I thought you'd like it. Once we get the satellite connection, you can look at whatever you want without borrowing Selina's or mine."

"Why?"

"It's a present." Her confusion didn't abate, and he blanked his face. Her father never gave her presents, not even to make up for her scars? "Do you know what a present is? A gift?" She shook her head. "It's something you give someone to show you are friends or family."

"Me friend? Me hurt you."

"That was an accident. At least, I hope it was."

Cassandra bit her lip before speaking. "No training on streets. Me forget."

"We'll both remember tomorrow. Or Selina will get us." She smiled and edged closer to the netbook. Bruce set it on the bed. "Do you know how to use a computer?"

She shook her head. "Selina." She pointed at the keyboard.

"Do you want to learn?" She nodded. "Do you want me to teach you?"

"Want teach?" She touched the edge of the netbook's screen.

"I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to."

"Bruce!" Selina called up the stairs. "The satellite guy is here."

"I have to go help him." Bruce left the netbook on her bed. Cassandra watched from her bedroom's inside window. They mounted the flat-screen television above the fireplace in the second-story living room.

Selina tested the WiFi signal in various rooms while Bruce discussed the feasibility of a dedicated fiber optic connection if he installed his own server. "Found a local athletic shop with floor mats in stock," she announced when she returned. "And the signal doesn't work in the tower at all."

"You want to redecorate; I want to rewire." The television finished accepting all of its channels, and the installer headed out to his next job--leaving his card with Bruce.

"I hope you're considering electric too. Downstairs is a cave."

He smirked. "Not enough bats, but a few more light fixtures wouldn't hurt. Does the athletic shop have pull-up bar stations?"

"I'd recommend turning the tower's top floor into a gym. It's got the highest ceiling."

Cassandra hopped silently from the stairs. "Gotham?" She wrapped her arms around Selina's waist. "Please."

"Good thing you aren't addicted to a show with an earworm theme song. Turn it to GCN."

Bruce complied, took his tablet back, and sat down on the couch facing the television and fireplace. Cassandra plopped down on the floor. Selina sat next to him. He bought the mats she had flagged and told the store to hold them for pick up. That way he could see their gym equipment. "Keeping an eye on things from afar?" He nodded at the television.

"I think she has a crush on Jim."

"You're on first name basis with the Commissioner?"

"When people go through a traumatic experience, formalities aren't that important." She kicked off her shoes. "And he was nice enough to make that mess with the Congressman go away without me asking. He saw Gilly goose me at the Dent Day party and decided he deserved much worse from his Old Town adventures."

He glanced at her face watching at Mayor Hill's press conference and then glanced down at Cassandra who stared at them. He'd ask Selina to clarify that story later. "As long as you don't have a crush on him." He opened the tablet's connection to the Batcave computers.

Selina wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "He doesn't wear enough black."

His ear burned under her tease and he dragged his fingers along her arm. Hill droned on about rebuilding Gotham City Stadium. Selina tucked herself against him so he could hold her and use the tablet.

Cassandra tilted her head. "Snack?"

"Apples are on the counter."

She brought an apple back with her, but rolled it between her hands. She patted Selina's knee. "You pay?" She swung her arm up and out.

"This is Bruce's house. He's letting us stay here."

Before he added that it was a gift, Cassandra said, "You sex Bruce."

"So much for keeping that a secret," Selina said.

"You're eight-years-old; what do you know about sex?" he said.

"Father teach." Bruce almost dropped his tablet, but Cassandra shook her head. "Strike target at sex seller. Sex sellers know streets. Buy help. Me sex too young."

"At least he added that," Bruce muttered.

"Adults have sex without buying and selling it," Selina said. "That's prostitution. Adults in a relationship have sex to show how much they love each other."

Cassandra's nose scrunched. "Selina and Bruce?"

"If she needs a label, I'm okay with boyfriend." His tablet connected to the more powerful computer across the Atlantic.

"We're dating; that's a relationship. I'm not giving him sex so we can stay here."

"Okay." Cassandra bit her apple as GCN announcers appeared on the screen. She plopped down on the floor again.

"Does Gotham have a new vigilante?" Summer Gleeson asked the camera. Bruce and Selina both looked at the television. "Eyewitnesses have come forward thanking an armored man in a mask. So far he has rounded up four escapees from Blackgate Prison, and is rumored to have had a hand in exposing a drug shipment that almost cleared customs last week. I asked Commissioner Gordon what he plans to do about this masked man."

Gordon appeared on the screen and glared at the microphone shoved under his moustache. "If someone wants to take up Batman's mantle and keep Gotham safe, I will happily work with them. Gotham needs all the heroes it can get."

"Damn." Bruce glared at the tablet.

"You'd rather Gotham not get any vigilante help?" Selina asked.

"No, I'm glad Blake's getting into it. I started a search on League of Shadows associates and it was stopped prematurely."

"Can't you just restart it? With a note to leave it alone?"

"That's not exactly the way I wanted Blake or Lucius to find out I'm alive." He added a password to halt the search.

"I have no advice on how to be a ghost in the machine, but stalking them is a bad idea."

"I just have to hide the search deeper. Hopefully, I can get it done without having to buy a server."

Selina snorted. "Go ahead and turn the wine cellar into a computer room. You know you want to."

"Might need that money for something else first." Cassandra had left the living room when the news shifted to street reconstruction. He pulled up a saved search he had done while on the jet and passed the tablet to Selina. She read "speech and language therapy" in the search box, and sat up straight to read it again. She knelt on the couch facing him. "But we need to make sure no one will search for us before we sign her up."

She dropped his tablet on his lap and caught his face between her hands. "You really do care, you brilliant genius." She kissed him fiercely and stood up. "Have to start supper."

He blinked as he rebooted his brain. Cassandra held the netbook in front of him. "Teach please."

"Okay." He smiled. She smiled back as she scrambled onto the couch.


	10. Chapter Ten

  


Cassandra leaned her weight back and stretched her legs out. She pulled her body even with the chains, tucked her legs, and enjoyed the momentum of the swing. Children on the other set dared each other to jump off the seat at higher points. The motion soothed her like meditating. She didn't need to show off. Besides, she could flip off the swing and land on her feet. The other children couldn't do that.

She looked straight ahead. Her retreat gave her the perfect vantage point. Selina lay on the blanket spread under a shade tree. Bruce's lap pillowed her head. In the weeks since they left Hong Kong, Selina and Bruce had dropped their guard with each other and her. No outsiders were trusted, even though no one had shown unreserved interest in them. That much was the same as it had been with her father. But everything else was so different.

Training stopped with bruising. Bruce showed them techniques he had adapted to not kill. He emphasized defense rather than attack, but when attacked, retaliate hard. Selina's upper body techniques needed more improving, but her kicks put Bruce on the ground. Keeping him there was a problem neither of them had solved yet.

Selina taught Cassandra other skills Father didn't, like how to fix her hair and pick a lock. They spent a whole day finding spots that allowed entry into the villa while Bruce took notes.

And no fights to give hugs. Cassandra wrapped her arms around Bruce and Selina, and they both returned the gesture. She always had to pin Father before kissing his cheek and then run away before he hit her. She hadn't tried to kiss Bruce or Selina, but she had watched them kiss each other. No fighting before or after. Their kisses made them happy.

Happy always surprised them. Bruce hid it better than Selina, but they both reacted the same way. Like now, he combed his fingers through Selina's loose hair. His muscles were slack and his attention focused on Selina's face. His slight smile widened when Selina touched his arm.

Cassandra's hair fluttered. She no longer had to circle around these two to avoid a blow. They only wanted to be happy and for Cassandra to be happy too. Father only cared how well she could hurt other people.

She shook her head. Father was gone and would never hurt Selina or Bruce. Or her, but that was harder to believe. She pulled stronger on the chains and the swing moved higher. There was something else underneath everything that she couldn't read off the adults. Cassandra thought it was about Gotham, but wasn't sure. Selina and Bruce didn't talk about how bad Gotham hurt them, so Cassandra wouldn't talk about Father. One day, they'd all stop flinching.

Selina laughed and wrapped her arms around Bruce's neck. He feigned pulling away. Selina laughed again, kissed him, rolled away, and stood up. "Cassandra, time to go."

Selina said not to show off. Cassandra launched herself out of the seat at the swing's highest point and didn't flip. Her feet landed past the stick marking the furthest leap in the contest. She ignored the impressed Italian behind her as she headed to Selina and Bruce gathering their stuff.

The lunch and meditation time at the park had come after a morning walking through a museum, so Cassandra felt no guilt about leaving Bruce and Selina to lie on her bed. She opened up the computer and played Gordon's speech for the Batman statue. Bruce had helped her save it, even though he stopped himself from moving restlessly while doing it.

"Anyone can be a hero," sad Commissioner Gordon said. Cassandra wanted to believe him and believe Batman. She wanted to do good. She turned on GCN's website. A new video was up with the Commissioner's face. She pressed play.

Gordon stood behind a flimsy metal podium. It was night-time because harsh lights sharpened the shadows. "As of eleven forty-five tonight, Gotham City Police Department took Jonathan Crane into custody. Crane, also known as the Scarecrow, escaped Blackgate Prison during the Occupation of Gotham City."

The reporters shouted. "Is it true that Nightwing captured Scarecrow?"

"The investigation into Crane's post-escape activities is ongoing and I will not add to speculation."

"Will Crane be tried on his involvement in the tribunals during the Occupation?"

"That's a question for the District Attorney. I just wanted to assure the people of Gotham that another dangerous criminal is off the streets."

The camera suddenly tilted and scanned the crowd gathered around the podium. Cassandra gasped. Outside the ring of police officers were reporters and other people, Father among them. The video ended and she replayed it. It was him: same cropped hair, same thick neck, and same crooked nose she had broken twice--once in training and once when she ran from Father's mission. Father was in Gotham City.

Her legs tightened to spring into a run as her skin goose-pimpled. Selina made a map picture of Gotham and Florence. Cassandra opened it, and rubbed her arms while looking at all the blue water between Father and her.

The League knew she left with Selina. So Father went to Gotham looking for them. But no one knew where they really were because of Bruce. Cassandra grinned as her shoulders and legs relaxed. Selina and Bruce were safe from Father.

"Cassandra, come down please," Selina called up the stairs. She headed down.

Bruce sat in an armchair in the living room, but Selina sat on the floor behind a cardboard box. "Titanium-dipped tri-weave fiber offers more protection than polyurethane-coated spandex," Bruce said.

"But it's not on the market anywhere." Selina waved Cassandra closer. "Come open it up. It's for you."

A mass of textured black fabric sat inside it. She gasped as she pulled out her very own catsuit. "Selina no forgot!"

"I didn't forget; it took longer than expected." Cassandra wrapped her arms around Selina's chest. "Go try it on." Selina said as they ended the hug.

"My dangerous girls," Bruce said behind her.

"You like us dangerous," Selina said.

Cassandra peeled off her shirt as she ran upstairs. She tossed what she had been wearing onto the bed, tugged on the catsuit, zipped it up to her throat, and looked at herself in the full-length mirror in her bathroom. She didn't want to hurt Selina but it needed something. Batman had worn his symbol across his chest.

Other than that, it fit as smoothly as the unitard did, thicker than her new gi, but no annoying bunching of fabric at her joints. She ran halfway down the stairs, and somersaulted off of them.

Bruce laughed as he tightened his arms around Selina sitting in his lap. "I think she likes it."

"You're not supposed to do that in the house," Selina said.

"Sorry? Gym?" She bounced, which was bad form, but she couldn't help it.

"Go test it out for an hour. Then you come help me with supper," Selina said.

"And don't do anything you need a spotter for," Bruce added.

"Yes." Cassandra ran through the dining room and up the tower stairs. Now she needed a mask, because heroes like Batman wore masks.


	11. Chapter Eleven

  


Bruce panted as he pulled Selina closer. "That was--" He was unable to think of an adequate adjective and settled for kissing her.

"Fulfilled your fantasy?" Selina chuckled as he kissed down her neck and rolled the pearls with his lips.

"Surpassed it," he admitted. "You do know I'm game for anything you think up."

"You'll be the first person I tell my naughty fantasies to." She rolled off the other side of the bed.

He watched the morning light brush her skin. She knew things about him he would never admit to another soul. Why didn't she open up the same way? He hid his confusion behind his blank face.

She plopped onto the mattress and grabbed his chin. "Don't pout."

"I'm not--"

"For the first time in my life I have the luxury to imagine stuff like that instead of planning survival. And that's because of you." She pecked his lips. "So no pouting." She avoided his half-hearted grab and laughed as she went into the bathroom.

Her life had led her to him and to this, but at what cost? What could he do to prove that time was over forever? His heart tried to bruise itself against his ribs. Maybe it was too early, with only about a month together, but he'd be prepared.

He pulled on his pajama pants and headed into their bathroom. "Would it bother you to skip practice today?"

She stuck her head out of the shower curtain. "Who are you and what did you do with my Bruce?"

"Okay, I want to see if Cassandra trusts me in the city without you."

"That sounds like a test. I hate tests. I'm fine with staying home and not getting thrown around today." She ducked back inside the curtain.

Bruce tied on his robe and went to the stairs to Cassandra's room. "Hey Cassandra, how about a mission instead of practice today?"

She appeared at the top of the stairs with a black expression to match the Batman pajamas she wore. He hadn't wanted to buy them, but Selina overruled him by pointing out that it was the first outfit Cassandra wanted and the profits supported Wayne House. "Mission?" Her lips curled back.

He sat on a riser. She had looked happier when she had thought he was a member of the League of Shadows. "I want to buy a surprise for Selina and I'd like your help picking it. Selina's staying here while we go to town."

"Su-prize?"

"A present she doesn't know about until I give it to her."

Cassandra's snarled cleared. "Yes. City clothes?"

"Yes, dress nice for the city." She disappeared into her room.

Selina turned off the blow dryer and swiveled at her vanity in the dressing room. "What's wrong?"

"Have you noticed Cassandra having a bad reaction to 'mission?'"

"Never used it."

"I must have stumbled onto something her father did. It's okay; once I explained, she dropped her I-will-hurt-you-if-I-don't-like-your-answer attitude."

"So what's really bothering you?"

Bruce sighed. "I hate triggering her. She's supposed to be safe with us."

"She does feel safe with us. Otherwise, she would have taken off the first night here, despite not knowing Italian." Selina read Cassandra better than he did. He dropped his worry when he kissed her forehead as he passed her for his shower.

Cassandra inhaled breakfast, and brought up the subject when they drove into Florence. "What buy?"

He glanced at her in the front passenger seat. "I want to buy Selina a ring."

"Selina wears tools."

So Selina had shown Cassandra her burglary tools disguised as jewelry. "I hope she'll wear it because I gave it to her." That kept Cassandra silent all the way to the jewelry store. "Don't touch the merchandise, but if you see anything Selina would like, tell me."

"Tell yes." They entered and Cassandra darted to the showcase counters on the left.

A young saleswoman bore down on him. "Buongiorno, how can I help you today?"

Bruce swallowed before switching to Italian. "{I'd like to see your engagement rings.}"

The woman squeezed her hands together. "{A proposal in Florence, how romantic! What kind of jewelry does your girlfriend like?}"

"{You could say she is a connoisseur.}" He stared through the top of the case. Necklaces adorned white headless busts and matching earrings and rings were arranged to best catch the light. What the hell was he doing? It was one thing to give her the pearls; she put them on before she even left Wayne Manor, of course she liked them.

The saleswoman slid a tray into his view. "{And what better time to give her the very best?}"

He looked over the rows of sparkling diamonds in stunning settings, but none of them shouted Selina. He glanced across the store. Cassandra crouched eye-level with the jewelry. Another saleswoman watched her with a frown until she caught Bruce's scrutiny and changed it to a thin-lipped smile. He turned back to the tray.

He was halfway through a third tray when Cassandra called, "Bruce, ring." He crouched beside her. She pointed without touching the glass and held up three fingers. "Pearls. Selina wears."

His saleswoman joined them on the other side of the case. "{May we have a closer look at the pearl ring?}" He asked her.

"{Your daughter shops as intently as you do.}" She pulled out the ring. "{It is a Tiffany ring, pre-1926, platinum setting.}" She set it on the counter.

Three flawless pearls were surrounded by thirty-four tiny diamonds on a metal ribbon. "You think this is the one?"

Cassandra nodded.

The saleswoman beamed when Bruce said they'd buy it. He smiled at Cassandra. "I have a good feeling about this."

Cassandra grinned back.

* * *

Selina pulled the stack of plates out of the lower cabinet and set them in a box. She should wait until Bruce and Cassandra were back so they could help clean out the first floor kitchen, but there would be plenty of demolition left for them. Her phone buzzed in her back pocket. A Gotham number, but not one on her contact list. "Hello?"

"I got something private to talk about, Pussycat." Jen gulped on the other end.

She recognized their code for when unfriendly ears were around. She also heard a foot scrape on the floor. Jen had her on speakerphone. "I'm alone, Princess. What's up?"

"There's a guy here in Gotham that really wants to talk to you about his daughter." A smack of a hand against skin filled the speaker, followed by Jen's closed mouth cry.

It had to be Cassandra's father. Her free hand curled into a fist. He couldn't use Cassandra as a punching bag, so he was using Jen. "This guy wants a face-to-face meeting?"

Jen's shriek grew louder until she inhaled again. "He wants to meet you tonight on top of the World Financial Center." A voice spoke in the background, but too low for Selina to understand the words. Jen continued, "If you don't show, my dead body will be left on the Commissioner's desk." Jen's inhale had tears in it.

"I'll be there with heels on. You tell that son of a bitch--" The dial tone echoed in Selina's ear. She left everything in the kitchen and charged up the stairs.

She stopped short in her and Bruce's bedroom. His robe hung next to hers on the row of hooks he had helped her put on the wall. He wanted to help, he said before they escaped Hong Kong. Probably the same thing he said before he first put on the cape. He would want to help--hell, he had his own list of things to punch Cassandra's father for--her with another monster of a man she couldn't beat.

Her hands shook as she heard the clang of the steel gate from her nightmares. No, she would never throw Bruce at her problem again. She took responsibility for Cassandra's life, so it was on her to protect them. Her trembling hands pulled her suitcase out of her wardrobe.

While her laptop searched for a plane ticket available this morning, she hid the stilettos inside rubber heels and packed the boots. Her catsuit and tools went in, along with the wad of fifties from Dorrance, a black dress, and a clean shirt.

She bought the ticket and called a cab. Then she dropped the cell phone next to the laptop on the bed. Nothing could lead back to Bruce and Cassandra. The first sheet she tore from a notebook ripped in half. The second sheet came out whole, so all she had to do was control her watering eyes. 

> I'm sorry. This is for the best. Take care of each other because I love you both.

After the third try, her shaking hands set the string of pearls on top of the note. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

  


Bruce frowned as he ended the last call. Cassandra stopped sniffing the take-out bag on her lap. "Wrong?"

He smiled despite the tickle of unease in his stomach. "Selina's phone keeps going to voice mail. It's nothing," he added.

She hopped out first after he parked the car under the drop shed, and carried the food inside. He shut the door as she ran upstairs shouting, "Selina food!"

Selina didn't shout back.

The tickle turned into scratching as he climbed the stairs. Cassandra put the take-out on the kitchen counter and darted to the tower. "Selina?" The scratching pressed into clawing when Cassandra called out again.

He turned to their bedroom. Her laptop, her phone, a piece of paper, and her strand of pearls lay on the duvet. He sat on the bed and touched the necklace. The cool, spherical gems rolled under his fingers. It was not around Selina's neck.

A whimper turned his head to the door. Cassandra stared at the pearls and inched closer. "Selina leave?"

He read the written excuse out loud with a lead tongue. Her brown eyes filled with tears. "What?" She grabbed and shook the paper. "What?"

"It means Selina left us."

"No! Selina happy. Liar!" She ripped up the paper before dashing into the dressing room. "Selina clothes here." She stomped back when Bruce didn't move. "Selina happy."

He closed his fist around the pearls. "I thought she was happy too."

"Body no lie!" Cassandra stomped her foot. "Selina happy. Me happy." She chocked, but her eyes continued leaking.

"Selina was happy in Hong Kong." The admission tasted like warehouse ash. He never should have approached her.

"No!" She squeezed his fist. "Selina no happy Hong Kong. Selina happy here!"

Her distress punched through his internal scolding for daring to seize too much for himself. "Selina was happy this morning."

"Yes!"

He went to the dressing room. Selina's suitcase was gone along with her catsuit, but most of her clothing still hung in the wardrobe. "She took the catsuit. Either she's going to steal--"

"Steal make Bruce sad," Cassandra said with a sniffle.

"Or she's expecting trouble. Trouble she didn't want us involved in." That made sense with her note. "Something happened while we were gone. Where's her phone?"

Cassandra released his hand and ran back to the bedroom. He dropped the necklace into the pocket of his jacket, the same one with the purchase he foolishly made earlier. She handed him the cell phone. He sat on the bed and she watched over his arm. He scrolled past his three calls. A number he didn't recognize called Selina around ten o'clock. "That's a Gotham area code."

"Gotham call?" Cassandra clutched his thigh.

"You have reached the voice mail of Jen Robinson. Please leave a message after the tone."

He hung up without leaving one. "It's a number for Jen Robinson. Selina lived with a Jen in Gotham."

"Jen trouble?"

"She didn't seem capable of causing big trouble when I met her." Bruce thought back to the young blonde woman who posed as a prostitute to pick pockets. "She may be in trouble though." He twisted to grab Selina's laptop. A quick search confirmed his fear. "Selina bought a ticket to Gotham."

Cassandra's fingers dug into his thigh. "Selina go Gotham?"

_And she didn't expect to come back._ He hoped that was the reason she left the pearls behind, and not that he shoved her away. "We're going to Gotham too. Pack a bag for a couple of days."

They didn't run into any problems chartering a private plane to Gotham, though their arrival would be a couple of hours behind Selina's. Cassandra curled up in the oversized seat and slept. He didn't want to turn on the provided television and wake her up, so he closed his eyes as well.

Bruce found himself in Gotham, but instead of the graffiti-covered alley, it was the bottom half of one of the city's double-decker streets next to a crumpled truck. The cold bit his skin exposed by the cowl.

Selina wore her black catsuit that emphasized her curves so enticingly. Her brown eyes behind her mask brimmed with unshed tears. "I guess we're both suckers." She seized his armored head and pulled him into a kiss.

He pulled her hips closer. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and opened her mouth wider. Pain flared on his left side. He looked down at her black-gloved hand on the knife hilt, but her face was sad, not like Talia's satisfied smirk.

"I can't," she whispered before letting him go. He fell to his knees and watched her climb into the Bat. She didn't know about his software patch to fix the autopilot. The Bat's engine drowned out his yell. She would die instead of him.

His eyes flew open with a gasp. Damn, he preferred the bats. He leaned back against the leather seat and focused on calming his heart. A whimper drew his attention to the seat facing his.

Cassandra's fists batted at unseen foes. Her face twisted, but she kept her lips pressed together. She hunched up her shoulders and protected her head with her arm. He crouched next to her seat. He never reacted well when someone shook him out of a nightmare, so he reached out with his voice. "Cassandra. It's okay. It's only a dream. Wake up, Cassandra."

Her eyes jumped open and scanned for danger. She wrapped her arms around Bruce's neck. He carried her back to his seat, and rubbed her back as she quivered against his chest. He remembered his father doing the same to him many years ago. "You're safe now, Cassandra. It was just a bad dream."

"Stupid," she muttered into his shirt.

"It's not. Everyone feels fear. It keeps you alive."

"You fear?"

"I fear not getting to Selina in time to save her."

"Me too." They sat in the semi-dark cabin for a few minutes. Cassandra let go of his neck. "Watch Gotham?"

"Okay." He turned the satellite television onto GCN.

Vicky Vale stood outside Police Headquarters. "For those of you just tuning in, an attempt was made on Commissioner Gordon's life last night and the vigilante known as Nightwing was shot."

Bruce went still and Cassandra keened.

"The Police Department has issued the following statement: Commissioner Gordon is fine and is taking protective precautions. The investigation is ongoing. Anyone with any information is encouraged to call the dedicated hot line at the number shown on the bottom of the screen. They made no comments on Nightwing's condition, but GCN's source at Gotham General Hospital said the bullet was non-lethal."

He took a deep breath. Provided their information was correct, Blake was fine.

"But if you were counting on this event to reveal the identity under Nightwing's mask, prepare to be disappointed. A masked female broke Nightwing out of Gotham General."

"Selina?" Cassandra asked.

He shook his head. "Her plane is landing about now."

"GCN has received video footage showing Batgirl in action."

The screen shifted to a pixilated video, but the hospital corridor and the two armored figures walking down it were recognizable. Blake had opted for a domino mask without a cape, but the young woman wore a cape and cowl like Batman's only her bat symbol was gold stretched across her chest. Her red hair covered Blake's arm slung over her shoulders. She steered Blake, whose other arm was in a sling, through the stairwell door.

Cassandra twisted to see his face. "Batman father?"

"I don't know." He didn't have a red-headed daughter, but she wore a Lucius Fox designed suit. Cassandra turned back to the screen and leaned against his chest.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

  


Selina flagged a cab as she left the World Financial Center. "Iceberg Lounge." The driver glanced at her. "You do know where it is?"

"Yeah, but it's a nightclub and ain't open yet."

"I have an interview."

"Ah." He maneuvered the cab into the traffic. "So you've seen the news about Nightwing? What do you think about Batgirl?"

It was impossible to miss the news on Nightwing since she arrived, but she was glad that he was okay, for Bruce's sake. Batgirl on the other hand, "I can't decide if she's a protégé Batman trained or if she's got a hard on for dead guys in capes."

That kept the cabbie entertained until they reached Oswald's building. Good thing, because she couldn't lose focus by thinking about how Bruce was reacting to Cassandra's father shooting at Gordon. She strode inside the nightclub, ignored the wait staff prepping for tonight, and glared at Oswald's office door while she strutted to it.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be here." The muscular bouncer or bodyguard crossed the bar area to intercept her. "You can't go in there."

"Watch me." She grabbed his snatching arm and redirected his momentum with a judo throw. He slammed against the floor. She kept walking.

Oswald opened his office door. "Selina, what brings you to Gotham?"

"A phone call from Jen about how she's been taken hostage by an assassin with a beef against me."

His lips pressed together as he sighed through his long nose. "Come in." Selina shut the office door as the balding man sat behind his desk. "If I knew he had any arguments with you, I would have offered the contract to another assassin."

She sat in a visitor's chair with her own sigh. "It's more my fault than yours. I took something from this guy and he wants it back."

"Give it back to him. Jen's a good assistant, and he's one of the top five assassins in the world. You don't want that variety of violence."

She tugged on her dress hem. "What he wants belongs to a third party, and it deserved a better life." She looked up. "He'll let Jen go if I meet with him, which I've agreed to do. But I'm not going in blind. What's his name?"

"Now, Selina, my colleague and dare I say friend? My reputation as someone who can bring together birds of a feather is the nest my empire is built on." He polished his monocle with a handkerchief. "You of all people know what an asset one's reputation is, my Felonious Feline, and my reputation depends on keeping my beak shut."

"You do know what cats do to birds, don't you, Ozzy? Give me this assassin's name so I can arrange for his world of hurt. Nothing will point back to you."

His nose twitched as he replaced his monocle. "It's not my habit to give out any information without--"

"Drop it. We both know you don't want me to beat it out of you, but I will if I have to." She stood without taking her unblinking gaze off Oswald.

"David Cain!" He jerked back in his leather office chair. "His name is David Cain."

"And who hired him to kill Gordon?"

His blue eyes bored into hers. "You know I cannot divulge that."

"You right; I shouldn't have asked that. Anything special I should know about the World Financial Center?"

"Not that I know of." He scooted his chair up to the desk.

"I don't know when he'll release Jen or what shape she'll be in. I'm counting on you to take care of her."

"She'll have the finest medical care in the city if she needs it." Selina nodded and turned to the door. "You won't come back from that meeting," he said.

She plastered on her cocky mask. "Maybe, maybe not, but there will be an opening on the top five assassins in the world list."

The next cabbie chatted about the rebuilding the Gotham Rogues had to do. Selina kept her comments neutral because she had no idea who Roger Goodell was, why he hated the Rogues, or what it had to do with salary caps. It was a relief to get out two blocks away and walk to Gordon's apartment building.

The Commissioner was at Police Headquarters and his home security was still no challenge. Didn't she tell him to upgrade that before she left Gotham? She wandered the rooms, looking for paper and pen, but really observing for herself that Gordon was okay.

A new eight-by-ten photograph of a red-haired girl in a graduation cap and gown hung on the living room wall. One of the guest bedrooms had been moved into, and judging by the clothes it was Gordon's daughter. Good for him. The daughter also had printer paper and pens available on her desk. Selina snagged a sheet and wrote her explanation to Gordon. She didn't want to be here when the kid came home.

This letter was much easier to write than the last one. She explained how she found Cassandra in Hong Kong, what she had learned about her life with her father, and that her father was the one who shot Nightwing. Her words faltered when she got to Cassandra's current circumstances. 

> I left Cassandra in Florence, Italy with the only person on the planet I trust to keep her safe. He's going by Hemingford Grey now. If you have to, see him in person, Jim. I doubt he'll cooperate with anyone with less authority than you.
> 
> I'll leave evidence on top of the World Financial Center that proves all this. A confession from David Cain's own mouth should work, right? Go to Cassandra only if you have to. She's been hurt so much and I piled more hurt on top. That goes for both of them, actually. Please be gentle with them. And get a damn alarm system for this apartment!

She couldn't think of anything else. She signed her name and folded it closed. Then she wrote "Open if you find Selina Kyle's body" on the rectangle and taped it to Gordon's bathroom mirror. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

  


"I don't want any more pills, okay? And I'm not hungry."

Babs mentally counted to five before she dropped the hamburger bag on his lap. Not that it had far to drop since Blake sat in the hospital bed. "It's antibiotics because a foreign object punched through your skin and muscle. You take all of the antibiotics otherwise you're just helping breed super-bugs. You're going to eat something because the antibiotics upset your stomach. And you're going to do it right now or I'm going to shove these pills up your ass!"

Blake washed the pills down with the soda. "I see why you ruled out a career in medicine."

"I should've let _Gotham Tonight_ get under your mask." She crossed her gloved arms over her armor-covered chest.

"Sorry." He dug into the bag with his good hand and held out the French fries. "I'm not used to anyone taking care of me."

"Well, get used to it, partner. You have to help me figure out who shot you." She accepted the peace offering.

"Did you find anything else on the roof?"

Before Babs answered, the platform lift to the cargo container entrance rumbled. Her eyes flew to Blake's shocked face. She grabbed her cowl off the bed and pushed it on as she left the medical bay. The platform joined the ceiling.

Mr. Fox might know about this bat cave but just in case, she jogged to the shelves slid out from the concrete wall. She grabbed the black rifle-like gun as wide as her thigh. Hopefully it looked intimidating jammed against her shoulder.

The platform descended with two pairs of legs on it: a child in black sneakers and jeans, and a man in brown wingtips and grey slacks. Babs trained the gun on the platform. It descended to show the child was a little Asian girl holding the man's pale hand. Not Lucius Fox then.

The little girl's head cocked as she studied Babs and the gun. Why was the platform so slow? Babs watched the man's button-up shirt and dark jacket come out of the ceiling. His stance didn't shift, but the little girl wasn't screaming "gun" either. His head finally emerged and surprise, she recognized the face. "Bruce Wayne?"

"This bunker cost a lot to build. I wouldn't use the sticky bomb gun in here unless you have a couple of million for repairs, Batgirl."

She lowered the weapon. "You... you...."

"Built this bunker, yes." He didn't release the little girl's hand as they walked up to Babs.

"But Bane killed you?" Obviously Bane hadn't killed him, but why let the story stand?

"No, Bane didn't kill him and neither did a nuclear bomb." Blake staggered out of the medical bay. At least his shot arm was still in the sling.

"Get back in bed," Babs and Bruce told him in unison.

Blake scowled and sat in one of the office chairs at the L-shaped computer desk. "How the hell did you not blow up and how the hell did you know assassins were coming after the Commissioner from where the hell you went, and who the hell is that?" He blinked at the little girl.

Bruce headed to the computer. "This is Cassandra. That's John Blake."

Cassandra nodded. "Nightwing."

Babs placed the weapon on the shelf. "You're revealing our identities to a ten-year-old."

She drew her chin up and studied Babs' armor. "Eight. Me no tell."

"We discussed it in the car." Bruce scrutinized Babs' face despite the cowl over it. "You're Gordon's daughter, Barbara."

"Babs Gordon." She pulled the cowl off and set it on the desk.

"Batgirl," Cassandra said.

She was stuck with that name the reporters thought up. And Bruce Wayne was Batman. Blake glared at the older man and his huffiness was not due to his injured arm for the first time today.

Bruce pulled the wireless keyboard across the concrete slab desktop and typed. "I didn't know assassins were coming to Gotham. I was looking for Cassandra's father." He opened the database search that she had found running in the background twice. "Are you sure it was an assassin?"

"Dad said the attack reminded him of Floyd Lawton," Babs answered. "I confiscated his gun, but he got away." She pointed to the upper right corner monitor with the picture of the sniper rifle. "It's out of the price range for one of the Blackgate Boys."

Cassandra winced, but patted Bruce's forearm. "Father shoot him."

Bruce sat in the second office chair. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. See Father GCN. No tell. Father bad Selina Gotham." Her lower lip trembled.

"We don't know if your father is the reason Selina came to Gotham." Cassandra rolled her eyes. "It's suspicious and I'll find him, so he can't hurt you or Selina." He pulled up GCN's website. "Which one had your father?"

"Scarecrow catch." He opened the file of the press conference Dad had on the street. The camera got bumped and scanned the crowd. "Father."

Bruce paused the video on a rugged Caucasian. His hand tightened on the mouse. "Let's find out who you really are." He opened another program, dragged a copy of the man's face into it, and photographs of faces morphed beside it.

"We've got a facial recognition program? Sweet!" Babs leaned over Blake for a closer look.

"You're the computer expert, I take it." Bruce opened two more searches. The one labeled hotels in Gotham searched for "registration for Elva Barr." The second was labeled hospitals in Gotham and looked for "female, early twenties, blonde hair, blue eyes, Caucasian, treated or admitted."

"Selina?" Blake demanded as Bruce typed. "Selina Kyle? You disappeared with Selina Kyle? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Babs looked down at her partner. He hadn't been so agitated over getting shot. Blake focused on Bruce and missed the brown eyes peering up.

Bruce's face didn't shift from the monitors. "What exactly is your concern based on?"

"Her criminal record was nearly three-inches thick! Talia al Ghul fooled the whole city, but you know exactly how bad Kyle is. Or is her trying to kill you once not enough?"

Cassandra's eyes brimmed. She looked at Bruce, and then turned to Blake. The tears cascaded as she stepped out from between them and ran silently behind the Tumbler.

Babs slapped Blake's non-slinged shoulder. "I can't believe you."

"Ow. Look Babs, you weren't here for the Occupation. You don't know what she's capable--"

"I don't care! You just made an eight-year-old cry." Bruce lifted up from his seat. "You guys settle this and find out who shot the rifle so we can arrest his ass." She marched to the end of the Tumbler.

Cassandra sat with her back against one of the massive tires. She hid her face against her knees, clutched her arms around her shins, and her whole body shook from the force of her silent sobs. Babs knelt down beside Cassandra. "It's okay. Blake hasn't had any sleep and he's talking stupid."

"Selina bad." Before Babs could explain that a criminal record didn't mean one couldn't save a city--because Babs would eat her new cape if Selina Kyle wasn't the masked woman who fought Bane with Batman--Cassandra continued. "Selina so bad no good ever. Me bad, me no good ever."

"No, it's not like that. Good and bad are choices people make. Sometimes people make mistakes or chose to be bad." Babs sat with her back against the other tire. "Selina made a lot of bad decisions, but she saved Gotham and helped you. That sounds like she's trying to do good."

Cassandra scrubbed her cheeks with her hands. "Chose good. Me clean mess, me do good?"

It wasn't the most eloquent definition of a hero, but it worked. "Right, or if you help other people, that's doing good too. You understand?"

"Yes." She wiped her eyes again.

"Cassandra? Are you all right?" Bruce crouched in front of them. "Selina loves you. She wrote it in her note, remember?" Cassandra nodded and sniffled. "Can you make an identification?"

She blinked, uncurled more, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Me help."

Bruce stood and held her as he extended his hand to Babs. She leveraged herself off the floor with the help. Blake glanced up with slumped shoulders. Bruce sat with Cassandra on his lap and pointed at a clearer picture of the man in question. Babs didn't see any similarities between the man and the little girl. Craggy skin surrounded his long nose with a ridge lump. His broad cheeks had been flattened out to his ears.

Cassandra pressed back against Bruce. "Father."

"His name is David Cain."

"Cassandra Cain?" She looked at Bruce and pointed to her chest.

"Do you want to be?" She flailed her pigtails. "That's fine," he said. "I like the name Selina picked." He scrolled through the information attached to the photograph. "Cain and Henri Ducard were part of the same mercenary group."

"Who's Henri Ducard?" Babs asked.

"One of Ra's al Ghul's aliases. Cain taught the League of Shadows how to fight, but never joined." Cassandra nodded after Bruce's speculation.

"So the League of Shadows is back in Gotham?" Blake asked.

"I don't think so, but it does explain why the League members in Hong Kong were chasing Cassandra." The computer beeped. A Jen Robinson matching Bruce's search criteria was admitted this morning with a broken arm, broken leg, and contusions listed all over her body. "A Jen Robinson's phone number called Selina. She's possibly Selina's old roommate."

Babs frowned at the list of injuries. "Did she get hit by a truck?"

"A truck with two fists," Blake said. "Cobblepott's paying for her care; it might not have anything to do with Kyle."

"Who's Cobblepott?" Bruce asked.

"Oswald Cobblepott the Third runs a nightclub called the Iceberg Lounge," Blake said.

"He's been consolidating criminals using the name the Penguin," Babs added. "But we can't prove it."

"Father target Selina." Cassandra looked up at Bruce. "Father knows me Selina. Father kill Selina."

"I promise I won't let that happen," Bruce said. "Stay with Blake while Ms. Gordon and I go check on Selina's friend." He set her on the floor. "Don't hurt him while he's injured." Cassandra scowled. Bruce turned to Babs. "Change into street clothes."

Babs ducked into the bathroom to change. She heard another hydraulic shelf sliding open. Blake protested first. "Look, I'm just shot. I can handle questioning an injured woman."

"And let your contempt for Selina bleed through? That won't help me find her." A case was pulled free from the shelves. Babs tugged off the body suit.

Blake sighed, "I'm not talking about her. You're the one with a gravestone out at Wayne House."

"Gotham won't see me," Bruce answered. Babs fastened her jeans, pulled on her shirt, and stepped into her sneakers. "And I don't want you scaring off the best lead to finding Selina," Bruce added as the shelf slid back into the wall.

"Look, I'm sorry for what I said. And I don't want her dead."

"I'm not the one you should apologize to," Bruce said as Babs returned to the main chamber. He picked up a black, hard suitcase. "Let's go."

Cassandra stepped in front of Bruce. "Me stop Father."

"No, you were brave enough to run away from him. Stay with Blake, and I'll be back as soon as I can."

Cassandra stepped out of Bruce's way, but her mouth twisted. Babs smiled at her as she hurried after the long-legged man. He put the suitcase in the trunk of a dark blue sedan.

He didn't say anything as he drove out of the Sheal Docklands. Babs gripped the door handle. "You're not mad, are you?" His glance at her was unreadable. "That I joined Blake," she added.

Bruce stared out the windshield. "Batman is a symbol to inspire the people of Gotham; a legend greater than a single man." She restrained from asking if he had seen all the merchandise plastered with the Batman symbol. "I don't have the right to tell you not to use it," he finished.

"It was the only way I could think of to thank you for saving my family." She didn't want him to think it was just thrill seeking for her.

"You don't have to thank me."

She shook her head with a snort. "I can't believe Blake was right about that."

The side of Bruce's mouth quirked up. "Does your father know what you're doing?"

She grimaced. "He found out when Blake got shot. Nightwing answered the Batsignal while I waited on a neighboring roof. I spotted movement on top of the building to the south and just landed when he fired. He wore a ski mask, and he was taller than me. You're about the right height, but his shoulders are wider than yours. We sparred. The only reason I ended up with the rifle is he let go of it when he threw me across the roof. I turned it over to Dad to stall the yelling. Not how we planned on telling him. Didn't think about the security cameras at the hospital."

She expected a lecture on how to avoid those, but Bruce only asked, "Did you plan on telling him?"

"Eventually."

A comfortable silence lasted as they entered Gotham General. Jen Robinson had a private room on a regular floor, not ICU. Bruce paused at the floral arrangements vending machine and bought a vase of white daisies. The nurse at the station glanced at the flowers and returned to her computer work when they passed her.

"Guard the door," Bruce said as they shut it. He moved silently across the tile floor, set the vase on the nightstand, and leaned over the pale woman with Technicolor splotches dotting her face and arms. "Jen, I need to ask you about Selina."

"Don't know, not her travel agent. Stop," she whimpered.

"It's all right. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you."

She stirred under the covers. "I remember you. Shit, that asshole killed me anyway." She looked at the rest of the room. "If the afterlife is a hospital, sign me up for haunting people."

"You're not dead."

"Oh. Wow, they gave me good drugs if I'm seeing dead people." Her unbroken arm reached and patted Bruce's chest.

"I'm not dead."

"You have no idea how happy that'll make Selina." Her voice tightened. "Oh shit Selina."

"The man who beat you, Selina arranged to meet with him, didn't she?"

Jen nodded. "Something 'bout his daughter."

Bruce deflated. "Do you know where they're meeting?"

"You don't want to tangle with this asshole, rich man." She lifted her arm in the cast.

"I can't let him kill Selina."

"World Financial Center is where they said."

"Thank you." Bruce trotted out of the hospital so fast Babs knew she'd never catch him if he decided to run. He closed the trunk and tossed her the keys when she reached the rental sedan. "Go back to the bunker."

"You can't face this David Cain alone!" But the parking garage level was empty. "And I thought Dad made that up."


	15. Chapter Fifteen

  


Blake looked at his assignment. Cassandra glared back. He could handle one hostile kid; he grew up surrounded by hostile kids. Her glare transferred to his wounded arm like she remembered a way to make it worse. He smiled. She scowled. "I'm sorry for talking bad about Selina," he said.

Cassandra crossed her arms. "You no like Selina."

"I don't trust her."

"Bad liar."

Man, how would Father Reilly handle this? "I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings. I didn't know she was taking care of you."

"Selina loves us." She scowled, pouted, and her brown eyes welled up.

"Don't cry anymore, please! Bruce will find her before anything bad happens." He inhaled. "Let's get out of here. Are you hungry?"

She wiped her nose on her yellow t-shirt's long sleeve. It rode up her forearm and he saw she wore a black layer under it. "Hungry."

Cassandra didn't complain about the distance to the bus stop or lag behind. They got off at a cheap pizzeria. "How much pizza do you want?" She pointed to the picture of a large slice. Blake ordered two with drinks and they found a table by the door.

She chewed and stared at the rack of tourist brochures. Blake didn't know what to do with her now. It was too late to let her play with the kids at Wayne House. Plus Father Reilly would ask what happened to Blake's arm. Maybe a movie? But if Babs or Bruce needed back-up that wouldn't work.

She leaned her chair to the side, plucked a brochure from the center of the rack, and set the chair quietly on the floor again. She looked it over as she sipped her soda. "Go there." She held out the glossy cardstock.

Did he need to explain closing times? The brochure was for the Iceberg Lounge. "I can't. And Bruce would kill me."

"Bruce no kill." She bit her slice before picking the brochure off the table.

"It's a figure of speech; he'd be really mad at me if I took you somewhere kids can't go."

Cassandra set down her pizza. "Bruce not mad, worried. Me worried."

"Don't." He had to say something to keep the tears away. "Bruce has been doing this for years. He'll stop this Cain."

She pinched a slice of pepperoni off the bed of cheese and chewed it with a frown. So she wasn't happy, but he'd take it over tears. He didn't rush her to finish her food and twilight deepened over the city by the time they left.

Blake took a different route back to the bunker, so Cassandra saw a different part of the city. His left arm wrenched. He stopped and looked back. She released his forearm, and pointed in the store window. "Want."

It was a boutique toy store. If a toy would keep her happy and fit his budget, he was all for it. Her finger singled out a mannequin wearing a child's Batman costume early for Halloween. "I don't know." She tilted a puzzled face at him. "I don't think Bruce would like it."

She scowled at his kneecaps, and he asked himself how many blows would it take for her to break them. Her scowl eased into a smirk as she looked up. "Take yours."

"Nice try, but you won't fit in mine."

"Make fit." She crossed her arms, planted her feet onto the sidewalk, and bored her eyes into his.

Bruce wouldn't like his adopted kid running around in a Batsuit, but he didn't kill. Blake didn't know what Lucius Fox might do to him if he had to bring a ruined suit for him to fix. He sighed and opened the store door.

Cassandra hugged the package all the way back to the bunker. She went into the medical bay, and brought out a suture kit and a pair of bandage shears. She set everything on the floor next to the cabinet without a suit. They needed another cabinet for Babs' suit in here. The little girl dumped the plastic bag into the floor and examined the black rubber mask. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Make fit." Her nose wrinkled at the flimsy cape. She grabbed the shears.

If personalizing it made her happy, he was not about to complain. "Okay, have fun." He sat at the desk and stared at the computer searches. Elva Barr had checked into a room at the Plaza. Must be Selina Kyle's latest alias; maybe he should go over there? He turned the computer chair around.

Cassandra sewed a square of black fabric over the open bottom of the cowl with the suture string. Whatever was going on, both Kyle and Bruce wanted Cassandra away from it. He better keep her here. He turned back to the monitors. David Cain's record from INTERPOL was still up, so he read that. This guy's career read worse than Bane's. What was Bruce and Kyle caught up in? Blake massaged his forehead. "Your father is--"

Cassandra stepped beside him holding the costume belt. She snapped the working case pocket shut. "Bad." She patted Blake's thigh. "Me know." She put the belt around her waist and frowned before heading back to her craft pile.

He watched her cut the padded top half of the costume jumpsuit away from the unpadded legs. "So why does Selina want to see your father?"

"Selina fight Father. Selina no win." She pulled off her yellow T-shirt. She wore a black catsuit suspiciously similar to Selina's underneath.

He swiveled back to the monitors. "Why does she want to fight him?"

"Me target. Selina stop Father." Her voice muffled as she pulled something over her head.

"Your father wants to kill you?" He swiveled around again.

Cassandra twisted in the Batsuit shirt. "Want me back. Me no go back. Selina fight Father and me free." She sat and pulled off her black high-top sneakers. "Selina no win."

Blake scowled at the man's photograph. Bruce had said he was trying to keep Kyle from killing herself, and Cassandra was certain David Cain would. "But why attack Commissioner Gordon? He doesn't know anything about you."

"Money."

"Right, he's an assassin. You sure he's not out for revenge for Bane or Talia al Ghul?"

"Father no like Talia."

He rubbed his forehead. How much evil had Cain exposed this little girl to? And he thought what he had lived through was bad, just needing sexual abuse to make it worse. "My birth family wasn't much to brag about either. You're lucky you found Bruce and Selina."

"Me know." Blake looked down. Cassandra used the costume's gold belt to tuck the foam-padded shirt against her black catsuit. "Me save them." She pressed on the side of his neck and dug her fingers into his uninjured forearm.

His body slumped out of the chair and against a tiny but sturdy body. He couldn't stop it as sedation took hold of him.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

  


Selina eased open the World Financial Center's rooftop access door. The wind caught her hair but the mask kept it pulled back. The large man's silhouette was outlined by the lights from the taller neighboring building. She pressed the remote's button on her belt as she shut the door. "Punctual. David Cain, I presume?"

He stepped into the orange light from the fixture above the door. "You should have brought my daughter."

Cassandra must have gotten her looks from her mother. She favored the Caucasian boxer's smashed face with her best smirk. "Really? You expected that after what you did to my friends?"

His thick lips broke apart in a feral smile. "I let the blonde go when you showed up at Cobblepott's." He stepped closer.

"And the Commissioner?" She circled to the left as her smirk faded.

"You're friends with the Commissioner of Gotham City's Police Department?" The mountain goats masquerading as his eyebrows climbed up his craggy forehead.

"The Occupation made strange bedfellows. But you targeting all my friends in Gotham isn't sporting, even if you missed Gordon by a mile."

"I hit who I aimed for. Are the masked vigilantes your bosom companions too?"

"After the original, I'm not interested in the carbon copies."

"Then you'll be happy to know that had nothing to do with you."

She settled into a stance. "Just a paying gig?"

Cain moved closer. "Opening volley of a paying gig. Now where is Cassandra?"

"With a better man than you." Her hands curled into fists. 

He lunged forward as fast as Bruce, but she spun out of reach. His arm slammed into her back. She tucked her fall into a roll. "Tell me where she is."

Selina launched herself with a roundhouse kick. Her stiletto heel caught his bicep. Cain grunted with the slice, latched onto her leg, and pulled her off balance. She kicked free as she fell. He loomed over her. Her foot caught his knee. His stumble sideways gave her the opening to roll away.

Her heart thundered as she crouched for an opening. She knew she wouldn't win this fight when she left Italy. But damn, Cain would suffer for what he did to Cassandra. She leaped to pull him to the ground.

His fist hit her right cheekbone. The blow sent all her momentum to the roof. She caught herself against the asphalt surface, but didn't move fast enough to avoid his boot kicking her stomach.

* * *

Oswald Cobblepott the Third frowned at the spreadsheet printout. He lost more money than he anticipated on last month's floor show. Good thing he cancelled it this month. The ventilation shaft above his head rattled. He scowled up at the white tiles. That was all he needed: the expense of the heating and cooling specialist who maintained the delicate balance for his penguins and his patrons.

He reached for his datebook to schedule an inspection tomorrow when the metal grill in the ceiling tiles sprang open. A tiny, black figure landed on his desk. The cape attached to her shoulders covered the desk and draped over the edge. The pointy-eared cowl lifted up and brown eyes glared at him.

Black foam pads exaggerated the muscles on her small arms. Her gloved hands latched onto his tuxedo's lapels, and she hauled him out of his office chair without leaving her crouch. Black material was sewn over the cowl's mouth and hid all her features. Her covered nose hovered at the end of his. "You hire Cain." The little girl's eyes narrowed.

"Who are you?" The stylized bat stretched across her padded chest. "Ah Batgirl, I presume. The news reports led me to believe you would be taller." He tried to straightened, but the grip she had on his clothes strained the seams.

"You hire Cain," she repeated.

"I don't know what you're talking about, you ebony enthusiast of equity."

Vulture threw open the office door and charged. About time the muscle-bound oaf got here.

The leg Batgirl knelt on shot straight back. The cape fluttered up and a black sneaker slammed into Vulture's throat. His eyes rolled back before he dropped to the floor.

Batgirl shoved Oswald into his leather office chair. She spun with her leg extended. The cape blocked his view of the porcelain bald eagle and his laptop falling, but he heard the smashes on the floor. She pulled her leg under her when she faced him again. "You hire Cain."

"I'm just the middle man! I don't care if Gordon ends up dead or not." His umbrella with the hidden rapier point leaned against the left end of the desk. He could skewer this deluded rodent before she kicked his throat.

"Cain's money." She held out her hand.

"He is not compensated for shooting the wrong person." He narrowed his eyes. "Oh, I understand this gambit, gamecock. You wish for Cain to discharge his displeasure over a disputed deposit by disemboweling me. I think not!" He lunged for the umbrella.

The Batarang embedded in the corner of his desk, centimeters away from his nose. Light gleamed off its sharp edges. Her cape brushed over his outstretched arm. His weaponized umbrella spun through the air, collided with his glass whatnot shelves, and the bird statuettes and shelves cascaded to the floor.

Batgirl pulled him back to his seat. Her other hand twirled another bat-shaped throwing star between her fingers. "Money now."

Oswald knew when he was outmatched. "It's in the lowest drawer left side." He pointed to it.

Batgirl jumped down and pulled open the drawer. She hefted the wrapped stack of bills. Her cowled head tilted at Oswald.

"Yes, that's all of it. Mind you, when Cain comes for it, I'm telling him you took it."

She tucked the money into her shirt and vaulted onto his desk. "Cain fight Selina Kyle. Where?"

"Do I look like a boxing promoter to you?"

He saw a black blur before pain exploded in his face. He bent over and put his hands to his face. Blood stained the fingers of his white gloves. He looked up at Batgirl.

Her right fist was held even with her head. "Where?"

"She asked about the World Financial Center." He tugged a handkerchief from his pocket and held it under his nose.

She stood up. "No hire Cain again." She pulled a long-barreled handgun out from under the cape. She fired a small grapple hook into the ventilation shaft. The gun pulled her back through the hole.

His office door flew open again with Hawk and Falcon storming in as her black cape vanished inside the ceiling. "You want us to go after her, sir?"

"No," the bloody nose added a thickness to his voice. "She is Cain's problem now."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

  


Batman swooped around the rooftop battle with the memory cloth cape. Selina faced her larger opponent with her left side leading. Her right shoulder sloped oddly and the arm hung at her side. They both turned to him when he landed on the asphalt-covered roof.

Selina's jaw dropped along with her guard. Cain lashed out with a kick to her left torso. Her right side hit the roof and she screamed.

Batman moved toward her, but Cain intercepted him. "I knew shooting at your precious comrades would draw you out." Cain's grin gouged into his face. "I was hired to show the mighty Batman wasn't dead, and here you are."

"Who hired you?" Batman stepped closer to Cain. Behind the assassin, Selina rolled to her left side. That last blow hurt her; she wasn't recovering as fast as she normally did.

"You're not dealing with an amateur this time, Batman." Cain slid into stance. "I don't break client confidentiality on a glower. Now let's see what the man who broke the League of Shadows is capable of." He launched himself fists first.

Batman parried the blows. They were more refined than Bane's brute force, more imaginative than Ra's drills, and stronger than Cassandra's attacks. Cain dodged Batman's kick. That didn't matter as long as Selina had time to get away. He punched Cain's jaw.

Selina tucked her left foot under her body.

Cain threw himself back and kicked Batman in the chin. Batman staggered, but didn't fall down. Cain's flip landed him behind Selina. She kicked her right leg up but he caught it and wrenched the foot to the side. Selina screamed through gritted teeth.

Batman's surge was stopped by Cain's arm wrapping around her throat and his other hand on her head to break her neck. "Let her go," Batman growled.

"Pardon the interruption, but this thief needs to tell me where my stolen daughter is before we finish." Cain's arm flexed against her neck.

"Go to hell, you abusive asshole." Selina struck his elbow with her working hand.

"Abusive?" Cain gaped. "Cassandra is my legacy. I taught her everything I know. I gave her a set of skills to keep her from being at the mercy of anyone. She will never be raped; will never need to sell her body. Why? Because I love my daughter." He shook Selina. "But what would a fucked-up orphan like you know about a parent's love?"

"This fucked-up orphan knows you teach a child to talk!" Selina pulled Cain's wrist.

Cain's arm never budged. "The only language she needs is how to use violence. A lesson she had mastered before you ruined her."

"You treated your own child as an experiment." Batman curled his gloved hands into tight fists.

"You don't have any children either, Wayne. And Ra's had such high hopes. Wanted you for his Talia." Cain shook his head. "I avoided his mistakes, and crafted the perfect weapon you never would have expected."

Selina slammed Cain's elbow again. "Cassandra's a child, not a killer!"

"She's both."

There was no mistaking the pride in Cain's voice. The blow to Batman's stomach almost shoved him backwards. "You already had her kill for you."

Selina's jaw dropped, but her lips drew together as Cain confirmed it. "The best way to approach you was through your daytime persona, so I sent her after Faizul, a criminal businessman. She tore his throat out before he could blink."

Cassandra, the same girl who curled up in his lap, killed a man. He sparred with her. He knew what she could do, but for her to have actually done it? Batman snapped his body out of the instinctual slackness his horror brought on.

Selina's frown cleared and she laughed. Her inhale was laced with pain, but she followed it with another, higher peal of laughter.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

  


Cassandra loved this gun that made it easy to climb the ventilation tunnels. She stopped the fan like Selina had shown her, opened the grill, and looked at the roof. Batman fought Father! She gripped the grill's lip. Selina sat up, taking deep breaths after every movement. Cassandra pulled herself out of the metal box and dropped into the shadows.

She recognized Batman's blocks and punches. She had fought those same moves. Bruce was Batman! No wonder Selina was so sad in Hong Kong. It also explained Bruce's agitation with Batman stuff.

Father somersaulted backwards and kicked Batman in the chin. Batman didn't fall, but Father landed behind Selina. Selina kicked, but he twisted her ankle and caught her in a headlock. They talked about Cassandra. Bruce was supposed to be her target. That's why his picture was in her room. Father said he loved her. But then he told them what she had done, what he told her was a game.

The blow delivered by words nearly knocked Batman over, but he recovered. Bruce would be angry at her like Blake was angry at Selina. The word blow made Selina think hard. Her thoughts made Selina laugh.

Under the mask, Cassandra gaped. Batman cocked his head slightly. Father shook Selina to cover his confusion.

"No kill." Selina laughed. "Your gun don't shoot no more. You ruined it."

Cain's arm tightened around her neck. "You ruined her! You filled her head with pacifist shit!"

"She reads people like she feels every detail herself." Selina stared at Batman. He nodded slightly. "You made her kill, she felt his death, and she's been running from you ever since." Selina laughed again.

Cassandra pressed her hand on her heart. If it beat any louder, they would hear it. Selina knew she hadn't chosen bad. Now Bruce knew too.

Father's face darkened in the harsh orange light. "She would have come back if you hadn't interfered."

"No kill. She said that so proudly in every fight. I didn't teach her that. That was her final lesson from you, Daddy Dearest."

Father snarled and shifted his arms to break Selina's neck. Batman moved forward. Cassandra screamed, " **STOP**!"

Father whirled in the direction of her voice, dragging Selina with him. Cassandra sidestepped in the shadows until she was behind Batman. Selina's groans covered her. "Cassandra, show yourself," Father ordered.

She pulled out the money she got from the Cobblepott man. Jobs were over once Father was paid. She threw the bundle as hard as she could. It hit Father in the chest before it landed in front of Selina.

"I think that belongs to you." Selina pointed to the money with her left hand. Cassandra moved back halfway to her original position.

"You've had your fun." Father glared into the shadows. "Now it's time to come home."

"It's clear she doesn't want to go anywhere with you." Batman said in a growly voice.

"I won't hurt them if you're a good girl." Father threw Selina down. She yelled when she landed on her damaged right shoulder. Batman surged forward, but Father rested his boot on Selina's ribcage. Batman froze. "She took care of you. Don't make me break more of her ribs for that."

Cassandra shuddered. If Father dropped his weight on Selina's ribs, they would crack into her lung. Cassandra pulled back her shoulders, didn't step on the too-long cape, and entered the pool of light. "No hurt Selina."

Father lifted his foot off Selina. "There you are. Take that silly mask off."

The rubber and fabric pressed tighter against her skin. She curled her hands into fists at her sides. "No. Me hero."

"What did you say?" He stepped toward her, leaving Selina.

Her whole body quivered. This mess was her fault. Anyone can be a hero. Father stalked closer. She lifted her chin. "Me hero. Me clean my mess!" She sprinted and leaped. Her legs wrapped around Father's neck. The borrowed cape swirled around them as she pulled them down. She punched his right shoulder before she rolled away.

Batman stepped closer to them. She pointed to Selina while Father rolled onto his hands and knees. Batman slid into a stance protecting Selina but faced their fight. Cassandra swept out of her crouch with a kick to Father's right shoulder.

Father backhanded her. She hit the roof and rolled as he dropped his foot. He stepped on the cape and kicked his other foot. She grabbed it before it hit her hip. She shoved up and Father's balance toppled. She darted to the side while he regained his footing.

Her eyes darted around their battleground. They were closer to the roof edge than Selina. She circled. Father matched her movement. She stopped when his back was in front of the edge, and lunged forward.

He swung his fist, but she ducked and kicked his knee. He stepped back before kicking. Cassandra jumped over his leg and drove her elbow into his thigh. He staggered back and swiped above her head as she ducked again.

"Me good." She coiled down. He shifted to grab her. "Me stop you!" She leaped and wrapped her body around his neck and shoulders. Her fists pummeled his head. "Me good! Me good!" Father staggered as she threw her weight back.

" **NO**!" Selina screamed as Cassandra and Father toppled off the building.

The cape whipped up through the air. Cassandra punched Father repeatedly, not stopping until they reached the ground. She heard the grapple gun fire. Father pulled her arm and leg, but she clung tighter.

Father's body collided with something. He punched her stomach and her grip loosened. He yanked her limbs off him.

Another arm wrapped around her waist. Batman held Father with his legs. The street lights retreated and the capes fluttered down. She banded her arms around Batman's neck, so he had both arms free. The grapple wire hooked to his gold belt dragged them over the roof's little wall. Batman kicked Father away as he released him, but set her on her feet.

Batman pounced on Father. One gloved fist yanked Father up by his shirt. "You're lucky I'm not the executioner Ra's wanted me to be." His other fist moved as fast as hers, and Father's bloody face fell on the asphalt roof.

Cassandra blinked and Batman kneeled in front of her. Bruce's worried eyes raked over her from behind the cowl. The rest of his body was too still and she couldn't read him. Her eyes watered. "Me good?"

His exhale exploded out as he hugged her. "Yes, yes, you are," Bruce's voice said into her ear. He let her go and set a pair of handcuffs into her hands. "You earned it."

She sniffled as she looked down at Father. She closed the metal around his right wrist, tugged his left ankle up and closed the other handcuff around it. He wouldn't get out of a half-hogtie. Batman held out his hand and she took it.

Selina propped up on a shaky left arm and panted through gritted teeth. Cassandra whimpered as Selina twisted to sit on her glutes. Batman kneeled in front of Selina. "How bad are you hurt?"

"I'm not walking down the stairs." Blood was smeared with her lipstick, but she still smirked.

Footsteps pounding up the stairs wiped away Selina's smirk. Batman touched her cheek and spoke like Bruce. "I'll find you."

He sprinted to the edge of the roof. Cassandra cried out as he jumped, but Selina grabbed her arm. His cape stiffened like a hang glider and he floated out of sight.

The rooftop access door banged open. Two uniformed police officers jumped out with their guns pointed up, but right behind them stormed a brown-haired and mustached man wearing a trench coat. Cassandra's mouth dropped open. Father earned the Commissioner's attention?


	19. Chapter Nineteen

  


Gordon scanned the rooftop. A black cape swooped out of sight, but he didn't draw any attention to it. A battered Selina Kyle dressed in her masked regalia sat on the asphalt. She released the child who wore a modified Batman costume. Near the roof edge, a large man lay on his stomach with one arm and leg handcuffed in a partial hogtie.

Selina smirked through her pain. "You're early, Jim. I'm not dead yet."

He directed the first two officers to the unconscious man. "Don't hold it against me that I wanted to prevent that. Is that Cain?" He jerked his head at the man.

"Yes, but it's Batgirl's collar." She patted the arm of the girl in the full face mask.

"She's not the Batgirl I've met."

Selina's smirk blossomed into a sly smile. "Well, what the report doesn't know won't hurt it."

Gordon squatted so he was face-to-face with her. A bruise spread on her right cheekbone under her mask. Blood smeared with her lipstick. Her right arm hung wrong. "How bad are you hurt?"

"I won't say no to a free ride to the closest hospital. And if your boys check on top of the rooftop access there, you'll find a recording of Cain's confession."

Gordon nodded at the two officers who had followed him up and they moved around the shed-like structure. "The evidence you said you would provide?"

"I didn't want to stop in Gotham and not get you anything."

"You're so thoughtful," he said. "Do we need to call for an ambulance?"

"Dislocated right shoulder, pain in my left ribs, and my right ankle doesn't want to move." Gordon wondered how many times she had been injured for her to be so precise and detached about this set. She continued, "Help me down the stairs and I can withstand a car ride to the hospital."

Gordon waved at two uniforms who just stepped onto the roof. "You two, come carry Catwoman downstairs to my car." You couldn't see her masked eyebrows, but Gordon got the impression she had raised one regardless.

The two officers slid their clasped hands under Selina's butt while Gordon helped raise her. She hissed with pain. Batgirl's whole body jerked and she lifted her gloved fists.

Selina petted the cowl before she wrapped her working arm around Sale's neck. "It will hurt no matter what. Don't hit anybody." Batgirl nodded and fell behind the group that Gordon led down the stairs to the elevator.

The officers loaded Selina into the Commissioner's SUV while Gordon conferred with the assigned detective. "We'll listen to the recording together when I return to Headquarters. There's probably stuff the D.A. doesn't need to worry about on it." Gordon waved off his driver and slid behind the wheel. Batgirl buckled herself in the center of the back seat bench. Selina sat in the passenger seat with closed eyes.

Neither of his passengers offered any conversation as he entered traffic, so he began. "Be honest with me, Selina."

"How do I keep giving the impression that I'm a liar?" She opened her eyes.

"I know who I saw jumping off the building. Is he back?"

"I don't know. He's not dead but--"

"He's been living as Hemingford Grey, not Bruce Wayne," Gordon said.

"I haven't been Selina Kyle either. And you two weren't supposed to follow me to Gotham." She pointed underhanded at Batgirl.

The little girl's voice had a trace of an accent that Gordon couldn't place. "Bruce want Selina safe. Me too."

Pulling up in front of Gotham General's emergency room doors stopped the conversation. Gordon wasn't sure if it was because of his presence, but they took Selina back for x-rays as soon as they entered. Batgirl pulled her cape around her as they waited in the hall. They followed the gurney into a treatment room where the technician picked up a pair of safety shears. "Okay, Catwoman, it's easiest to cut your shoulder and ankle free."

Selina sat up. "This stuff costs more than you make annually. You are not cutting it up. Jim, make sure he doesn't peek. Don't want my boyfriend to get jealous."

Gordon steered the young man toward the door while he pulled the curtain closed around the gurney. "You heard the lady."

"Me help?" Batgirl asked behind the curtain.

"Yes, but first, I am so proud of you." Selina's voice quivered with parental pride that Gordon never expected to hear from her. "So many people just run from their monsters, but you fought yours. That was the bravest thing I have ever seen. But don't you dare throw yourself off any more buildings until you have BASE-jump training."

"Yes." The cape flapped. "Feel?"

"You tell me. Now unzip that boot and don't repeat anything I say under my breath."

After some colorful mutterings and alarming inhales, Selina was undressed except for her mask, a black bra, and a pair of black panties when the doctor arrived with the x-ray film. "Good news," the doctor said as he displayed the x-rays. "Only one rib is fractured, your ankle is only sprained, and your shoulder is only dislocated."

"And it all only hurts like a muther," Selina added while the doctor blinked at her mask.

He glanced at Gordon. "Can I ask what happened?"

"I fought a very bad man," Selina said. "But I'm telling everyone a bike messenger ran me over."

"The criminal investigation is ongoing." Gordon tugged Batgirl away from the gurney.

"The less I know the better." The doctor lifted her right ankle and began to wrap it. Selina took the treatment stoically while Batgirl flinched. Gordon patted her black-covered shoulder. She looked up and he saw her brown eyes before she looked at Selina again. The doctor adjusted the sling for Selina's right arm. "You don't need to stay overnight." He typed on a laptop. "I'll print your treatment plan with a copy of tonight's visit for your own doctor. Get dressed and see the nurse at the exit desk for payment."

The treatment room's door swung open. "I paid already." Bruce Wayne parked the wheeled suitcase against the wall and held a huge bouquet of red roses and pink carnations in front of his face.

When no one protested the sunglass-wearing man's entrance, the doctor shrugged. "I'll get your printouts for you."

"Thank you," Selina said as she stared at Bruce.

He handed her the bouquet. "I hope the mourning bride isn't appropriate."

"I hope so too."

"Let's give them some privacy, Batgirl." Gordon patted the young man's shoulder, but Bruce didn't react. Batgirl backed out and huffed when Gordon shut the door. He sank into a hallway chair set across from the door.

Batgirl glided to Gordon. "Me hero?"

His eyebrows knitted together. "What do you mean?"

"You say anyone be hero. Me hero?" 

"Oh yes, you did good work up there. You're a hero." He saw her grin beneath the black fabric covering the lower half of the cowl. She climbed into the adjacent seat and kicked her feet. His heart panged when he remembered Babs small enough to do that. He leaned closer. "But I think you should wait until you're older before doing it again."


	20. Chapter Twenty

  


Selina brushed a soft rose petal against her lip as Bruce set her bag on the gurney. He pulled off the mirrored sunglasses when he stood in front of her again. His bland expression didn't match his flinching eyes. "How badly are you hurt?" he asked.

She set the bouquet on the empty tray stand. "Shoulder was dislocated, set in place, so using the sling for the next couple of days. One rib fractured here," she laid her hand on her left side. "The ankle is severely strained so he put a brace on it, but nothing broken." He looked at the plastic and ACE bandage encasing her right ankle. "I'm free to go home as soon as I'm dressed."

His head jerked up. "Home?"

The tightness in her lungs wasn't caused by her damaged rib. "I thought we'd go back to Italy. You want to live somewhere else?" _Unless you don't want to live with me?_

"You want to live with me after what I did to send you on this suicidal stunt?"

He always tried to take the blame. She shook her head. "No, Cain was going to kill Jen--"

"And you didn't come to me!" His low voice almost matched his Batman growl. "You knew you couldn't beat Cain." 

"Maybe if you didn't go easy on me during training--"

"What did I do that made suicide by assassin a better choice than asking for my help?"

"That didn't even--"

"What did I do?"

"Stop it! I couldn't throw you to Bane--Cain! I couldn't throw you to Cain," she repeated.

His face cracked before he unlatched her mask. He cupped her face. "I forgave you for that before I climbed out of the Pit, Selina. I know you wouldn't have done it if Bane hadn't threatened you, and if I hadn't acted like an arrogant ass before I asked for your help. I thought you knew that." His feather-light touch traced around the bruise on her cheek.

She still had trouble believing it. "I could save you both." Her hand on the back of his neck pulled him closer. "I'm responsible for Cassandra and Cain was my problem."

He pressed his forehead against hers. "And I didn't make myself responsible for you both?"

"I knew you'd take care of Cassandra."

"Really? I told her to stay with Blake. That's how well she listens to me. We both need you."

"No, you don't."

He pulled back but his eyes snared her gaze. "I turned on the autopilot for you. I was willing to let go as long as Gotham was safe, but you kissed me. I turned it on because I wanted you."

Selina felt tears building. "You never said. I told you I love you."

"In a note."

"Still counts."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box. "I love you." He cracked it open. "Marry me."

She gaped at the diamond and pearl platinum ring that hadn't been in the house when she left. "Training exercise, my ass." The tears welled.

"She was really well behaved in the jewelry store." He set the box in her hand before cupping her face and wiping away a tear. "That's not an answer." His hazel eyes gleamed.

"Yes, of course, yes!" She surged forward. He wrapped his arms around her, avoiding her ribs and not pressing down on her right arm as they kissed. He lifted the ring box from her hand and slid the ring on her ring finger. His hands then leaned her head back as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled back and panted. "Don't you dare take it back. I don't want another heart attack tonight."

"Not going to happen." She didn't want to see her gray hairs over tonight's escapades. "So you're responsible for me?"

"This makes it official."

"Then you better help me get dressed before someone shoos me out in my underwear."

"And usually you can't wait for me to have you like this." He laughed, but opened up her suitcase. Between the two of them, they pulled on her black dress. Bruce surprised her to near tears again by pulling the pearl necklace out of his pocket. Once she was composed, he opened the door.

Gordon pushed in a wheelchair. "You'll probably attract less attention with this."

Bruce shook his hand. "I expect you to come to the wedding, Jim."

Selina held up her hand with the engagement ring. "You haven't had a vacation in forever."

"Congratulations to both of you," he said with a smile. "And I'll come as soon as I get an invitation."

Bruce unfastened Cassandra's cape. "Selina has to heal and then we have to plan it, no rush. Take it off," he directed to Cassandra. "We're leaving not in costume." She nodded before pulling off the rubber and cloth cowl.

"So you aren't staying in Gotham." Bruce's head jerked, but Gordon raised his hand. "It's all right; you deserve a life. Now I have to get back to my job." He handed Selina her medical printouts, and held out his hand to Cassandra. Her eyebrows drew down over her eyes but she reached for him. He shook her hand. "You've got time to grow into a hero. Don't rush it."

"Yes," Cassandra said.

Bruce waited until Gordon had left before he plucked a bronze-colored gun from Cassandra's belt. "What else did you get from Blake?"

"Blake no give." She jutted her chin up.

His stern expression sagged as he looked at Selina. "I'm afraid I sent the real Batgirl to find Blake tied up and the bunker ransacked." He stuffed Cassandra's modified cowl into his jacket pocket.

Selina looked at the child's costume cobbled with the catsuit. "Nightwing and Batgirl need their equipment. Pile it here so we can return it." She patted the mattress beside her.

Cassandra set the cape on the bed, took the grapple gun and set it on the cape with a little pat, and fished out a handful of bat-shaped throwing stars. "All."

"Okay." Selina pulled her white blouse out of her suitcase. "Let's get you disguised and get out of here."


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

  


Bruce lifted Selina out of the passenger seat of her rental car. She looked around the shipping yard with a smirk. "Are we sailing back to Italy?"

"No, we have to check on Blake and Babs Gordon." He opened the cargo container door and looked back. Cassandra yawned, but followed him carrying the equipment. Bringing that back gave them an excuse to see the two young adults who also took up his symbol. He had clarified his responsibility to Selina and Cassandra. Now he had to figure out his responsibilities to Nightwing and Batgirl.

"Okay, but can we go to a pharmacy next? I want a painkiller." The door swung shut and her arm tightened around his neck as the lift dropped.

"I'll get you something down here." He kissed her cheek.

Her brown eyes widened as the lift landed in the bunker. She took in the open doors to other rooms, the extended shelves and cabinets into the main room, and Blake and Babs who stood at the computer desk. She looked at him as he carried her to the chairs. "You cannot build one of these under our house."

His heartbeat stuttered when she said _our house_. "Not until I buy out our neighbors."

"The tower will fall over."

He set her down in a chair. Cassandra sidled up beside it. "This is Babs Gordon; you've already met John Blake, Selina Kyle. I'll get you the painkiller." He strode into the medical bay. 

"Hello," Babs said. "Let me get the stepstool."

Bruce found the bottle of the eight hundred milligram ibuprofen tablets and two instant ice packs. Babs helped Selina rest her sprained ankle on a plastic folding stepstool he didn't remember putting down here. Then he glanced at Babs' height and the height of the storage shelves.

"Thanks." Selina smiled at the younger woman and held out her hand. Bruce dropped one tablet into it. Babs opened a water bottle and passed it to her. "Thanks again. Haven't mastered dry swallowing pills."

"We saw the alert when GCPD processed David Cain." Babs waved a hand at the monitors.

"Please make sure he doesn't get out of Blackgate," Selina said and then sighed when Bruce set the cold pack on her sore shoulder.

"Unlike you," Blake blurted. He bit his bottom lip when Bruce glared and laid the second cold pack on Selina's ankle. Did Blake think Selina's actions meant nothing?

Selina smirked. "Even though the charges are gone and I only stayed in there because I didn't trust Bane not to break my neck, I'm sure it still counts as your collar." Blake didn't respond, so Selina pushed Cassandra forward.

Cassandra raised the gear to Babs. "You took my cape and my grapple gun?" The red-haired young woman looked confused at Selina's white blouse belted over Cassandra like a dress.

"Borrow fight Father," Cassandra said.

"It's not borrowing if you don't ask permission."

"Sorry."

Babs took the pile, and found the Batarangs in the cape. She fanned them out. "And Batarangs? John, you let her take real Batarangs out of here?"

"Blake no give," Cassandra said.

"I didn't let her," Blake said. "She knocked me unconscious. How did you do that?" Cassandra shrugged and stepped toward him. He jerked back. "Don't do it again!" Cassandra tucked herself under Selina's left arm. His eyes narrowed. "I'm surprised she didn't take more given her role model."

"Your nap hasn't improved your mood and sedation is still an option." Babs brushed past him carrying the equipment.

Bruce pulled up a second chair so Cassandra was sandwiched between him and Selina. Cassandra whispered in Selina's ear. Selina's hug tightened. "I know. I'm holding in the ugly because you taking a header off the building is all his fault."

Cassandra reared against Bruce's armrest. "Father my mess! Save you and Bruce."

Blake's mouth dropped open. "She fell off a roof?"

"She forced Cain over the edge and went down with him," Selina explained. "Bruce caught them, but that doesn't change the fact that she gets suicidal grand gestures from us and the Halloween costume from you."

"She took it apart like a craft project. I thought she just liked dressing up."

Cassandra shook her head. "No tell Blake. Me hero. Hero mask. Clean mess. Father my mess!"

Babs rejoined them with a guilty expression that matched Selina's. "It's not just Blake's fault. I agreed with her that heroes clean up messes."

"All I meant was house cleaning is a responsible chore," Selina muttered.

Bruce pulled Cassandra's cowl out of his pocket. No protection in the shaped rubber, but she did a good job stitching in the fabric with suture thread. Put the ski mask he had first used to shame.

Cassandra's hands gripped his thigh. He looked at her reddened eyes and trembling lips. "Mad me bad?"

"Mad about this?" He flopped the cowl. "Or Faizul?"

"Who's Faizul?" Blake asked.

She brought her hand in front of her throat, clawed through the air, and then stared at her hand. Selina cut off her own gasp. Bruce tilted up Cassandra's chin. "Game," she whispered. "Terror and nothing." Tears welled in her brown eyes. "No game. Father liar."

"You didn't want him dead," Bruce said.

"No want. Never again."

How many years had he yearned for Chill's death? He watched his parents' killer die believing it would give him peace. Cassandra refused to cause more death. He wiped away the one tear that snuck down her cheek. "Not mad."

Her body sagged against his leg. Selina rubbed her back. Babs' pale face winced. "Poor kid."

Blake shook his head. "So what happens now? You three disappear again?"

"That depends on you, John," Bruce answered. "If you can't let go of your animosity toward Selina, it will make things awkward when you come to our home to train."

"Train?" Babs repeated.

"The best fighter here is Cassandra."

Selina spoke before Babs voiced the skepticism in her expression. "Just accept it. She beat the man who did this to me."

Bruce ran his hand over Cassandra's brown hair. "I can't give you two the responsibility of Gotham City without giving you all the tools necessary, so training. We'll work out a schedule so it doesn't disrupt your lives here."

Babs stuck her finger under Blake's nose. "Do not screw up my training because you can't bury her past."

Blake raised his eyebrows, but gently pushed her hand away. "Can you accept a truce?"

Selina smirked. "Oh, I can accept a lot that's freely given."

"It's freely given."

"And at no point can you blame me for the training hell Bruce puts you through."

"I can agree with that."

"Okay." Selina turned to Bruce. "Good enough for you?"

He nodded. Cassandra looked at Babs and Blake and then at him. "Me train too?"

"Yes, you have more to learn before you wear this again." The rubber cowl flopped again. "Well, a cowl like this that will protect you."

Cassandra took the cowl back and frowned at Selina. Selina shook her head. "No, I agree with him. You have your whole adulthood to wear a mask."

"Our children will have a better childhood than we had," Bruce said. "Starting with you."

Cassandra spun to him. Her brown eyes eclipsed the rest of her face. "My Selina, my Bruce? Me yours?" She twisted back to Selina.

Selina eased over and kissed Cassandra's forehead. "Oh Cassie, we've been family since Hong Kong."

Cassandra kissed Selina's cheek and pushed her upright. Bruce scooped the little girl into his lap. She trembled against his chest like a plucked bow string before lunging and planting a kiss on his cheek. He hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

Her trembling stopped with a sigh larger than her body and she snuggled against his chest.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

  


Summer in Florence, Italy was cool this year. Alfred Pennyworth needed a light jacket as he left his hotel. Or maybe his old bones felt the chill sharper now. It had been a hard spring, probably the hardest he had ever lived through. If one ignored the personal pain, the previous four months held so much success. The children thrived at Wayne House. The Wayne Foundation secured charitable funding to rebuild Gotham, and the competent people he had hired saw that the money was spent on projects to improve the city or those directly affected by the Occupation. 

He shuffled his newspaper between his hands as he pulled out his cell phone. He scrolled through the messages. His assistant wanted an answer if he wanted to present the scholarships to the children of the officers who died in a ceremony or not. He tucked the phone into his jacket pocket as the waiter approached him. Alfred put that decision off until tomorrow as he sat and ordered his Fernet-Branco.

The newspaper didn't hold his interest when a young couple two tables away him laughed. A black-haired man and a blonde woman leaned closer together, both of them strangers. _Of course, they're strangers, you bloody old fool._ They will always be strangers now that he buried the boy.

Alfred drained the tiny glass, and the bitter taste squared his shoulders. He'd go back to the hotel for supper. Bad habits didn't tempt him there. He pulled out his wallet and his gaze drifted across the café tables. His hands froze and he blinked.

A familiar face stared back at him a few tables away. Bruce Wayne--alive, relaxed, and dressed like a man on holiday--tipped up one corner of his mouth and nodded. The young brunette woman sitting with him turned her head. Alfred recognized the cat burglar's profile as well as the pearl necklace she wore.

_He did it. He finally found someone to fill that hole in his heart._ But Alfred only nodded. He set his payment on the table and moved to the door of the café. He'd leave before he broke down and ruined their cover.

A small hand seized his before he went through the door. He looked at a little Asian moppet with brown hair braided into two pigtails down her back. Her blue cheongsam top was closed with pink frogs that matched the embroidered flowers on it. "No leave," she told him.

The smile raised his lips more easily now than it would have this morning. "And why not, little miss?"

"Eat with my family."

She tugged him back inside while Alfred thought of how to apologize to her tourist parents for being misidentified and dragged around by their daughter. A chair scraped the floor and Bruce stood up. The apology floated off his tongue.

Selina's amused voice filled the vacuum. "Send her to wash her hands and she comes back with a date. You did wash your hands?"

The little girl climbed into her seat across the table. "I washed."

Bruce clasped Alfred's hand and smiled. "Join us for supper, please."

"Yes, please," Selina echoed.

Alfred blinked away the wetness in his eyes. "I'd be happy to."

He settled into the last chair and Bruce began introductions. "Selina, you've met."

"Briefly." Her wide mouth stretched into a grin. "Did you bring the baby book?"

"I hope he didn't." Bruce smirked, but his eyes were warm. "And this is our daughter, Cassandra." The moppet looked up from the red cat figurine she danced on the tablecloth and grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who told Cassandra to intercept Alfred if he tried to leave the café?


	23. Fanmix Soundtrack

  


Usually the songs I select for the soundtrack focus on characters and scenes. The songs for this soundtrack focused on each chapter.

  1. Chapter One - "Rush Hour Main Title Theme" by Lalo Schifrin
  2. Chapter Two - "Only Hope" by Switchfoot 
  3. Chapter Three - "A Praise Chorus" by Jimmy Eats World
  4. Chapter Four - "Flood I" by The Sisters of Mercy
  5. Chapter Five - "Only For a Night" by Florence + the Machine
  6. Chapter Six - "What Do You Do" by Papa Roach
  7. Chapter Seven - "Why Do You Love Me" by Garbage
  8. Chapter Eight - "Meteor Shower" by Owl City
  9. Chapter Nine - "Power of One" by Merril Bainbridge
  10. Chapter Ten - "Everything" by Lifehouse
  11. Chapter Eleven - "Teardrops" by Massive Attack
  12. Chapter Twelve - "Into Temptation" by Crowded House
  13. Chapter Thirteen - "Feel the Quiet River Rage" by Live
  14. Chapter Fourteen - "Not Afraid" by Earshot
  15. Chapter Fifteen - "My Big Mouth" by Oasis
  16. Chapter Sixteen - "Shake It Out" by Florence + the Machine
  17. Chapter Seventeen - "I Will Not Bow" by Breaking Benjamin
  18. Chapter Eighteen - "Something I Can Never Have" by Nine Inch Nails
  19. Chapter Nineteen - "Running Away" by Hoobastank
  20. Chapter Twenty - "Run to the Water" by Live
  21. Chapter Twenty-One - "That's What You Get" by Paramore
  22. Chapter Twenty-Two - "On My Way Home" by Enya



To download the zip file, right click [here](http://www.bookwormlibrary.us/soundtracks/Fanmix_TDKR_Weapon.zip). (I tried to link on the album cover, but the link keeps editing itself off of them. :p)


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